The Opposite of Logic
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: I do not believe I have ever hurt anyone as much as I have hurt her, Jim.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Saw the movie. After I retreived my knocked-off socks, this little idea snuck into my head. I hope you enjoy it. But after you enjoy the movie. Otherwise you will be very spoiled.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Have you ever heard of a planet called Betazoid?"

"Betazed." Staring into the tiny flames of the candles that lit his quarters, Spock didn't turn his head to acknowledge the man leaning in the open door frame. "Class M, Federation, home to a race of telepaths, I believe."

James Tiberius Kirk couldn't hold back a lascivious grin. "Now isn't that a happy thought? A woman who knows exactly what you want her to..."

"Is there a point to your inquiry?"

Undaunted, Kirk stepped into the semi-dark room; the doors slid shut behind him. "I used to know a guy at the Academy who said he heard that the Betazed's..."

"Betazoids," Spock corrected.

"Make up your mind, would you?" Kirk tried again, "He said that when the Betazoid's get married...they're naked." He paused for effect, but when he received no response, he added, "Everyone. For the whole ceremony."

Finally, Spock glanced at his friend and captain. "Fascinating," he dryly replied.

Kirk nodded his agreement as solemnly as possible. "So it occurred to me, as I was trying to figure out how fast we could make it to Betazed at Warp Eight, that I know almost nothing about Vulcan weddings."

Spock turned back to his meditation candles. "That information is easily accessible."

"Sure, the computer could take me through the particulars." Kirk grabbed the chair from Spock's workstation, turned it around and straddled it. "But you know me." He grinned. "Why not go straight to the source?" After a moment, Kirk's smile fell. "C'mon. You know you want to talk about it."

"There is nothing to discuss." With one breath, Spock extinguished the flames. "Computer, lights." He stood up and in the harsh glare of the overheads, it was impossible to overlook the dark shadows under his eyes. "The arrangements have already been made."

Looking up at the man who had gone from the biggest pain in his ass at the Academy to his greatest asset in the first year of his new command, Kirk shook his head. "You don't want this."

"What I want is irrelevant in the face of my duty to my people."

"Half of your people don't even consider you a true Vulcan." Kirk held up his hands innocently. "For once, I'm not saying that to piss you off. It's just a fact. Right?"

Spock stared at him before abruptly looking away. "There are less than 20,000 Vulcans left," he reminded Kirk. "They have lost the right to be..."

"Choosy?"

"Exclusive," Spock finished.

"So...what? They need babies and you're just supposed to marry some girl they picked for you and start making them?"

"Marriages and children go hand-in-hand."

Kirk snorted. "Not always."

"Is there something you wish to talk about?" Spock asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, I've always been careful," Kirk defended himself. A moment passed. "Usually." Another moment. "For the most part." Shaking his head, he plunged on, "We're not talking about me. I'm not the one being pressured to help re-populate my species!"

"I doubt you would require any pressure to rise to the occasion."

A slow grin spread on Kirk's battle-roughened face. "I'll give you that one," he conceded.

There was an open case on Spock's bed, only partially filled with the clothes he would be taking with him on his sabbatical from active duty. Otherwise known as the first year of his marriage. He walked to it and closed the lid with a heavy snap. "If Vulcans are to survive, we must create a vast and diverse genetic pool." He picked up the case. "Everyone must do their part. Including myself."

Kirk let him get all the way to the door before asking, "What about her?"

Spock didn't turn around, but he stopped short, frozen in his tracks. "She...understands," he eventually said in a tone that was cool, but not entirely composed.

"Really?" Kirk swung himself up onto his feet. "Then I was right. She is a hell of a woman." He smirked. "But then I knew that from the first time I saw her take her shirt off."

Turning his head ever so slightly to the side, Spock replied, "I am familiar with that particular anecdote, and I am aware that the circumstances have never been duplicated."

"Doesn't mean they couldn't be," Kirk retorted. "There's nothing like the man she loves getting hitched to someone else to make a woman fall right into your arms."

At this, Spock finally turned back. Only his painfully tight grip on the handle of his travel case gave away any emotion. "I realize I have no reason to expect nor request your discretion in this matter, but if you could find it within yourself to not..."

"Spock." Kirk shook his head, slowly this time. "I'd never do that."

His friend's grip on the handle relaxed just a fraction. "I have never..." He hesitated. "I do not believe I have ever hurt anyone as much as I have hurt her, Jim."

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his dark uniform pants, Kirk lifted his shoulders. "She's Starfleet. She knows about duty."

"Did I not have a duty to her?"

"I don't know. Did you?"

Spock thought for a second. "How can I put my desires above the needs of my people?"

"Well..." Kirk scratched the back of his head. "No offense, but your people aren't gonna keep you warm at night. Trust me on this one." Off Spock's look, he waved his hand indifferently. "Another story for another day."

"She and I have never officially committed ourselves to each other," Spock continued, choosing to ignore the innuendo for the moment.

Kirk looked around the room. "Just how many more nights did she have to spend in here to qualify as a committment?"

Spock's slanted eyebrow spiked. "You think I have betrayed her."

"I think..." Clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder, Kirk sighed. "You're in a no-win situation, friend."

"You do not believe in no-win situations."

Kirk nodded. "True. But I do believe in duty. And love. And I'm smart enough to know that they don't mix well."

Spock looked down at the case in his hand. "She deserves better than half a man."

"Funny thing about Uhura...she's got a way of deciding for herself what she does or doesn't deserve."

"Perhaps one day," Spock mused. "When I have completed my duty to Vulcan."

Kirk gave him another solid clap on the back. "That's the spirit. Nothing says happily-ever-after like genetic obligation."

"Now you are mocking me."

"Only one of my many pleasurable vices." Kirk flashed him an irresistible grin. "Am I still invited to the ceremony?"

"There will be no naked women," Spock informed him.

Kirk shrugged. "I'll suffer through it."

* * *

On the other side of the Enterprise, a lone woman sat in the empty mess hall, staring down into a cup of mint tea. Although it had begun to cool, her slender hands remained around the glass mug, as if drawing strength from the remaining warmth.

"Lieutenant."

Startled, Uhura's head lifted, but her shoulders relaxed when she saw who had entered. "Don't you think we've known each other long enough to forget about rank?"

Dr. Leonard McCoy conceded with a nod. "Yes ma'am." He walked to the replicator and stuck a mug into it. "Coffee, blacker than black and hotter than hell."

Uhura smiled softly. "How long did it take you to get the computer to acknowledge that command?"

After taking a sip of what materialized in his mug, McCoy scowled. "Who says I have?" He downed another gulp of lukewarm sludge. "Can I join you?" At her nod, he took the seat across from her. "It's a quiet night in Sickbay for once."

"That's good to hear."

"Yep." A couple of silent seconds ticked by. "And the bridge?" he asked.

"Also quiet." She lifted her cup to her lips, but didn't drink.

"Good. Real good." After taking another sip of coffee, McCoy set his mug down with more force than necessary. "So. How far along are you?"

The cup slipped from Uhura's grip and shattered on the tabletop, sending tea and glass flying.

"Careful!" McCoy reached for her shaking hands and examined them for cuts. Finding none, he sighed. "I probably could've put that better," he gruffly apologized.

Uhura stared at him. "I don't understand. Why do you think that...?"

"I'm a doctor, not an idiot," he scoffed. "No one drinks mint tea unless their stomach's flipping and flopping. Add in the fact that you've had to be relieved on the bridge twice in the past month, you turned down a Cardassian Sunrise the other night at the poker game and you have an appointment in Sick Bay next week...and there's really only one logical conclusion."

His use of the word "logical" was not lost on Uhura. Tears stung her eyes, but she bravely blinked them back. "Hardly conclusive evidence."

"Tell me you're not pregnant and I'll sing you an apology," McCoy said as he retreived a drying cloth from the mess line. "But if you are..."

"If I was..." she slowly began. "It would be a very big problem."

Giving diligent attention to the task of mopping the table, McCoy asked, "Does he know?"

"If I was..." Uhura repeated. "Why would I tell him?"

"Because if you were," the doctor snapped, reluctantly playing along, "it would be half his responsibility and emotions or not, arranged marriage or not, he'd be expected to live up to it!"

"So many people already expect so much of him. I told myself a long time ago that I would never ask for more than he could give me."

"And look at what he's given you." McCoy's expression grew dark. "I should grab him by one pointy ear and..."

She held up her hand. "The sentiment is appreciated. The gesture wouldn't be." She looked down at the pile of broken glass the doctor had gathered as he'd mopped up tea. "I'm carrying his baby." When McCoy opened his mouth, she cut him off again. "A child who is only one quarter Vulcan isn't going to help them re-establish their race." She drew in a ragged breath. "It's better that he...that he marry. Have children who are more...helpful."

McCoy sank into the seat beside her. "And what happens to you?"

Dragging her lower lip between her teeth, Uhura shook her head, her dark hair sweeping her shoulders. "He'll be gone for a year. He never even has to know."

"You'll have it then."

At this, she lost the battle with her tears. They spilled down her cheeks in twin rivers. "Of course I will. It's part of him. And even if he belongs to someone else now...I still love him." She shrugged helplessly. "I'll always love him."

McCoy took her hand again, awkwardly this time as it was the touch of a friend rather than a physician. "You won't be alone," he promised her.

Twenty minutes later, as she sat on the bridge, Uhura could barely hear the captain give the all-clear for the Enterprise's shuttlecraft to depart on its journey to the Vulcan colony over the roar in her ears.

Tearing off her earpiece, she shot to her feet. "Permission to be relieved, Captain!"

Kirk looked back at her. Their eyes met for a second before he nodded. "Granted."

Back in her quarters, she curled up in her bed, alone except for one tiny, unexpected, unplanned but already deeply cherished life.

* * *

The End or To Be Continued...you decide.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: I wish I could extend a personal thanks to each and every one of you who took the time to read and review. Just please know that your kind words meant so much to me. I hope you find the second chapter as entertaining. Thank you!

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

_The candlelight that cast dancing shadows across the regulation-issue sheets was slowly dying, but the couple entwined under the rumpled covers didn't notice or care. _

_Because it would be their last night together. _

_"What's her name?" _

_Staring at the ceiling, Spock quietly replied, "I do not know."_

_Uhura lifted her head from his shoulder and looked down at him. "You don't know the name of the woman you're going to marry?" When he said nothing, she sat up all the way, clutching the sheet to her breasts. "You're lying to me. You know her name." _

_Spock shook his head against the pillows. "Her name does not matter." _

_"Because she's just...what?" Uhura swallowed heavily. "A womb to fertilize?"_

_"Do you think I enjoy the idea of that?" _

_"I think you'd better enjoy it if you want it to work like it's supposed to." In a flash of sudden anger, Uhura pushed her way out of bed and reached for her robe. The short terrycloth hem barely skimmed the middle of her thighs, but she belted it around her body like it was protective armor._

_Arms folded tightly, she turned back to look at the man in her bed. "I think I'm being exceptionally understanding and surprisingly logical about all of this," Uhura reminded him. "The very least you can do is be honest with me."_

_Sitting up, Spock steepled his hands at his mouth for a long moment. "Perhaps I would rather not hurt you with the details."_

_Her voice cracked slightly as she whispered, "I think we're beyond that now." _

_After another moment had passed, he gave in. "Her name is T'Lan." He met her wounded gaze. "We were introduced once, at the Vulcan Embassy on Earth. She was on Andoria when Vulcan was...destroyed. She has never been married before, but her entire family is gone and she..."_

_"Stop. Please." Uhura hugged her arms tighter around her slender frame. "I don't want to feel sorry for her. In fact...I'd really like to hate her." _

_"Hate does not suit you, Nyota." _

_Shaking her hair back from her face, she tried to laugh, but it came out flat and bitter. "People can change." _

_"Not you." Spock stood and walked to her. Although she looked away, he gently turned her face back towards him. "You will never change for me. You will always be as you are now." His mouth brushed across hers. "The better half of my heart." _

_"But she gets the rest of you." Uhura jerked away from him and walked to the small window to look out at the star-dotted blackness of space. "I'd like to hate you, too." She bit her lip. "But I can't." _

_"For that, I am glad." _

_Facing him, she lifted her chin bravely. "Tell me something."_

_Spock inclined his head. "Anything."_

_Her hand drifted down to her belly, resting there for a second too long. "Have you ever considered that we could have a child?"_

_"A child of ours would have been more Human than Vulcan," he replied. "The remaining Elders wish to enhance their own gene pool." _

_Numb, Uhura blinked. "Not dilute it." Slowly, a spark flared up in the center of her chest. "Your Elders can go to hell," she snapped. _

_Spock caught her up in his arms before she made it to the door and although she struggled against him, he held on until she gave up and pressed her forehead against his bare shoulder, wetting his skin with her tears. His hand moved to cup the back of her head, stroking her hair until her sobs subsided. _

_She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies even closer together. "Please don't..." The request died on her lips. _

_"Ask me," he said hoarsely. "Nyota...I need you to ask me." _

_Uhura closed her eyes. "Please don't..." Her voice broke. "...be unhappy." _

_"I will carry out my duty," Spock said after a minute of silence. "Without emotion." _

_"How very Vulcan." _

_Spock pulled back and held her face in his long hands, looking back and forth between her wet eyes. "I am leaving my humanity with you." _

_"Yes," she whispered. "You are." _

* * *

On his wedding day, Spock's thoughts couldn't have been further from the impending ceremony which would bind him to T'Lan. They were, as they had been since his arrival on the Vulcan colony two months earlier, light years away on the Enterprise. His true home.

The traditional robes hung heavily on his body. Too much fabric. He'd become accustomed to light-weight Starfleet uniforms. Or maybe he had spent too many nights in nothing at all, his bare skin against Uhura's as he watched her sleeping.

Either way, the formal Vulcan attire was like a heavy yoke, weighing him down, anchoring him to a loveless marriage that might produce offspring, but would never create a family.

The chime on the door to his room jerked him out of his reverie. "Come in."

Kirk entered, tugging at the high collar of his dress uniform. "I'm not sure being a captain is worth having to wear this damn thing," he announced without greeting. Catching sight of Spock's somber expression, he got right to the point. "Your father sent me to get you. They're ready to start."

"I am surprised he did." Spock folded his hands at his chest. "I think he believes you are a bad influence on me, and that you are here to stop me from..."

"I swear, if you say the word 'duty' again..." Kirk left the threat empty. The vacant look in his friend's eyes made him sigh. "He shouldn't worry. I think if you've made it this far, nothing I could say would change your mind."

Spock looked down at the ground. "What would you say?"

"Something brilliant," Kirk replied without hesitation. "And it would work, too. Then we'd hop a 'craft back to the Enterprise and everything could go back to normal."

"Normal," Spock mused. "This from the man who abhors the status quo."

"If the status quo means that two people I care about aren't completely miserable, I'm all for it." Kirk took a step towards him. "Aren't you even going to ask about her?"

The half-Vulcan started towards the door. "This is hardly the time or the place."

"She's been ill." When Spock's head whipped around, Kirk grimaced. "In the past two months since you left, it seems like she's in Sickbay more than she's on the bridge. I asked Bones if I should be worried, but he just yelled about doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I am certain that if it was serious Dr. McCoy would have at least told you so." But the worry in his tone belied his indifferent words.

Kirk frowned. "You've been on this colony too long, Spock. They're starting to get to you."

"This colony will see the birth of the future of the Vulcan race. And if I am to be part of that, there is no room for emotions."

"Oh, don't be so damn dramatic," Kirk scowled. Cutting in front of Spock, he blocked the doorway with his body. "You can go out there when you admit that you're worried about Uhura, even just a little."

Spock's eyebrow lifted. "Why is that important to you?"

"Because it means you weren't just using her as some...experiment in humanity. That you actually cared about her." He pointed a finger at his friend. "I know you did at one time. I saw it...in the middle of battle, she was on your mind. That doesn't just go away."

"No," Spock agreed. "It does not."

Kirk lowered his finger. "All right. That's good enough. For now."

"Jim." When Kirk looked back at him, Spock hesitated. "Will you keep her safe?"

"She'll keep herself safe," he replied. With a lift of his shoulder, he added, "But I'll help if she'll let me."

"That would give me...peace of mind."

Kirk shook his head sadly. "You really are one stubborn bastard, do you know that?"

The corners of Spock's mouth turned up. "So I have been told."

"C'mon." Kirk slapped his bicep. "Let's get this over with so we can get to the good part: the reception."

As they started down the hallway, Spock had to remind him, "As you have been told, there will be no reception."

"Then just give me a quart of Romulan ale and point me towards any unmarried friends of the bride." Kirk grinned. "Same difference."

* * *

"What ye are about to witness comes down from the time of the beginning without change." The Elder performing the ceremony took T'Lan's hand. "This is the Vulcan heart." He took Spock's hand. "This is the Vulcan soul." Joining them together, he finished, "This is our way."

And on the other side of the galaxy, as Uhura worked on translating a subspace transmission from Klingon to Federation Standard, the baby within her moved for the first time.

* * *

To Be Continued

A/N: The wedding vows come straight from the _Enterprise_ episode, "Home." No copyright infringement is intended.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: I continue to be absolutely blown away by the response to this story. Thank you so very much. And I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Special thanks to my beta, Lisa, who is on her second viewing of the movie. We're tied for now, honey, but that could soon change...

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Standing at the comm panel, McCoy looked back at the patient seated on his exam table. "Are you sure about this?"

"It's time." Uhura put a hand on the gentle swell of her belly that even the loosest uniform could no longer hide. "Obviously."

With a sigh of reluctant agreement, the doctor pressed a button on the panel. "Sickbay to Kirk."

The captain's voice boomed back, "Go ahead."

"Sir, if you could come down here. We have a...um...a situation."

Appalled, Uhura silently mouthed, "Situation?" McCoy lifted his hands helplessly.

"Everything all right, Bones?"

"Yeah. Yes, sir. Just...get down here, Jim." Jamming the button to close the comm line, McCoy wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "This baby's gonna be the death of me." Uhura glared at him. "Sorry."

Her frown relaxed as her lip trembled. "He'll tell him. I know he will."

"Not if you make him promise that he won't. Jim doesn't go back on a promise." With his tricorder, McCoy began scanning her body. "But...would it be such a bad thing if he did?"

"He's married now." She stroked her belly, more to calm herself than her baby. "No doubt trying for a child of his own. He doesn't need this burden on his shoulders."

As he punched buttons on his tricorder, McCoy grumbled under his breath, but the only words she caught were, "...cold, green blood..." and "...good thing when he had it."

The Sickbay doors slid open with a great rush of air as Kirk skidded to a stop inside. After taking a quick look around as he caught his breath, he turned to McCoy. "What's the situation, Bones?"

The doctor glanced at his patient. "Well...you see, Jim...there's a...that is to say..."

Uhura sighed and slipped off the exam table. "I'm pregnant." She shrugged. "I just thought you should know."

After a silent moment, Kirk's eyes slipped down to her rounded stomach, clearly displayed by her regular uniform, instead of the tent dress she'd been wearing on duty recently.

When he finally found his voice, the only question that came out was, "How?"

McCoy covered up a snort a second too late. "Come on," he said off the captain's look. "You of all people..."

"I'm almost five months along," Uhura added. Saying anything else was unnecessary. He already knew; it was there in his blue eyes.

"Yeah." Kirk swallowed. "That would make sense." Taking a breath, he asked the doctor, "Is everything all right?"

"The child is developing normally," McCoy told him. "At least as far as I can tell. It's...genetically unique."

"Every baby is unique." Kirk walked to Uhura. "May I?"

She hesitated, but then nodded. A second later, he reached out and laid his hand on her stomach. The baby cooperated by giving a sound kick which made Uhura wince and Kirk's jaw fall open. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "He's strong!"

Uhura tried to roll her eyes, but couldn't through a film of hot tears. "Must be his father's side," she whispered.

Kirk drew his hand back like it was on fire. "Tell me he doesn't know," he demanded. "Because if he knew and left anyway..."

"I didn't tell him." She looked him straight in the eye. "And you can't either."

McCoy shook his head when Kirk shot him an incredulous look. "It's her decision, Jim. Respect it."

Kirk swore sharply. "I should've knocked him out and dragged him back here when I had the chance! But no..." Plunging his hands into his hair, he swore again. "I just stood there and watched him marry..." Catching sight of Uhura's pained expression, he stopped. "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Uhura smiled through her tears. "Jim Kirk apologizing?" With the back of her hand, she wiped at her cheek. "Almost makes the whole thing worthwhile."

"Amen to that," McCoy echoed. Instead of apologizing when his old friend shot him a glare, he just went back to his tricorder.

"Don't be sorry," Uhura said to Kirk, drawing his attention away from the doctor. "I'm not. I get to keep part of him with me forever."

"God, you really are too good for him." With a sigh, Kirk reached for her hand. "Is there anything you need? Pickles? Ice cream? Foot massage?"

Again, McCoy mumbled to himself, this time something that sounded like, "Good old shotgun wedding?"

"I want to stay on the Enterprise for as long as possible," Uhura told Kirk. "Can you make that happen?"

He tried to flash her a devil-may-care smile, but it came out too forced. "You're talking to the youngest captain in the fleet. I can make anything happen."

It wasn't true, but she smiled anyway. There was one thing that even James Tiberius Kirk couldn't do, no matter how many punches he threw or dangerous stunts he pulled.

He could not change the past.

* * *

Spock woke to the scent of jasmine carried through the open window on a cool morning breeze. Impossible, he told himself, even as he lay in bed, breathing it in. Jasmine was not native to Degan V, the uninhabited M class planet which had become the new home of the Vulcan race.

Jasmine. He sat up and put a hand to his suddenly aching head. Jasmine was Uhura's scent. Sweet, yet exotic. Intoxicating. She wore it behind her ears and on her pulse points and when her temperature rose, the scent went straight to his head like Aldebaran whiskey.

Shaking off the memory, Spock glanced to his right. The other half of the bed was empty, athough the pillow had been neatly straightened. He looked back at the open window, through which he could see the blue-green sky and the faintest outline of the planet's two moons.

It was a picture perfect world, as beautiful as Earth, yet well-suited to Vulcan physiology with thin air and high altitudes. His older self had chosen wisely. Everyone found the colony to be exceptional, and were as content here as they ever let themselves be about anything.

Everyone except for him.

Throwing off the covers, Spock dressed quickly and came downstairs. Through the wide glass doors that led onto the patio, he could see breakfast laid out on a wooden table. Beyond that, in the carefully-cultivated hanging gardens, he saw his wife expertly pruning her beloved Orion roses.

"Good morning," T'Lan greeted him. "Did I wake you?"

"No." Spock looked around at the colorful plants that grew down from a lattice-work of clear hydration tubes over their heads. "Have you planted jasmine?"

"Jasmine?" T'Lan repeated. "I have not. Earth horticulture has never held my interest."

That wasn't surprising. Nothing about Earth interested his wife. He inclined his head. "My mistake then."

Lowering her pruning shears, T'Lan tucked a long, silky lock of dark brown hair behind her pointed ear. "I have prepared the morning meal. Will you join me?"

They sat down a few minutes later to plomeek broth, an assortment of freshly cut fruits from the garden and Vulcan spice tea, eating in silence for several long minutes.

"How is the broth?" T'Lan eventually asked.

"Adequate, if a bit bland," Spock replied. "I will examine the replicator for any malfunctions later, if you wish."

T'Lan delicately cleared her throat. "I did not use the replicator."

"Then..." Spock paused, searching for the right words. "I am sorry."

"Why? It is not your fault."

Spock watched his wife for a second as she sipped her tea. "What are your plans for today?" he inquired.

T'Lan set down her cup with great precision. "I have an appointment at the medical center." When she met his stare, there was an unspoken question in his eyes. "I am not certain," she told him. "I only...suspect."

Although his heart was racing, Spock calmly sat back in his chair. "Should I accompany you?"

"That is not necessary."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

T'Lan tilted her head to the side, puzzlement written all over her delicate features. "It is possible that I am mistaken, and if I am, what would be the point of your presence?"

"Nothing. Apparently." He stayed seated only for another second before abruptly rising. "I will see you this evening then."

Upstairs in his study, with every window tightly closed, he could still smell jasmine.

* * *

To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: I don't really have the words to express my gratitude for the incredible response to this story. I am just so glad you're all enjoying it. Thank you, again. And another special thanks to my beta, my collaborator, my fellow Spock fan, my friend, Lisa.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

If Uhura had been asleep, the chime on her door might have been unwelcome. But sleep was escaping her, as it often did now that she was entering the seventh month of what seemed like the longest pregnancy in history.

Although she wasn't terribly big, she felt like a house. And it was only going to get worse. If she couldn't find a comfortable sleeping position now, she held very little hope for month nine.

She struggled to sit up. "Who is it?"

"Ensign Chekov." A moment passed. "I can enter?"

If his accent hadn't already won her over, his innocence would have. It was impossible not to smile around Chekov. And Uhura desperately needed to smile. "Come in."

He entered with his hands behind his back. "Please forgive me my interruption," he started. "I have no wish to be disturbing you."

"You're not," she assured him. "Is there something you need, Ensign?"

"You can call me Pavel." He smiled nervously. "It is what my mat calls me."

Apparently being the only pregnant woman on board had turned her into the ship's resident mother figure. "All right, Pavel." She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, no small feat in her current condition. "What can I do for you?"

"Many years ago in my country, it was bad luck to give a baby gift before the baby come. But we are modern people, da?"

"Yes," Uhura agreed.

Chekov hesitated before he revealed what he'd been holding behind his back, a well-worn, obviously well-loved stuffed bear. "I would like to give this to your baby. It will protect him, like it has always protected me."

It was probably her racing hormones, but hot tears welled up in a great wave. "I can't take this," Uhura said with honest regret. "It should go to your own children someday."

"At the Academy, roommates used to say that if I kept it, there would be no children for me."

She laughed without warning, the first genuine laugh she could remember emitting in weeks. "I'm sorry, Pavel," she apologized. "I wasn't laughing at you."

He looked down at the bear. "I have never known my father. My mat raised me alone. People told her she was bad mother...bad woman." A frown pulled at his smooth forehead. "But they were wrong. She was loving me more, I think, because it was only her."

"Yes, I'm sure she did." Uhura held out her hand for the bear. "Thank you for this. I'll treasure it."

Smiling once again, Chekov nodded. "It is my pleasure, Lieutenant."

"Pavel," she called to him before he left. "You can call me Uhura. If you want."

After two attempts at sounding out her name, he gave up. His accent had beat him for the moment. "I will be working on it." He opened the door. "You will be very good mother. I know this."

When he was gone, Uhura stood back up, rubbing her belly. The baby was moving, making occasional kicks and punches that made her wonder if she was gestating a future martial artist.

She crossed to the chest of drawers that held her clothes and personal items. From under a stack of shirts in her top drawer, she withdrew a small, glass-framed picture.

He didn't look particularly pleased to be posing for the portrait, which had been taken upon his graduation from the Academy, before he'd been asked to stay on as an instructor. His posture was perfect, but his expression was blank. She didn't mind. It was the only picture she had of him.

Uhura traced the line of his jaw with her finger as lovingly as if it was his real face. But it wasn't, and all she felt was cold glass.

Shoving the frame back into its place among her shirts, she laid the bear on top of it and slammed the drawer shut.

* * *

_"I have never done this before." When Uhura drew back in the wake of his blurted admission, Spock immediately regretted his propensity for complete honesty. "That is abnormal, is it not?"_

_"Well..." As she thought this over, her hands remained around his neck, her painted nails lightly combing through his short black hair. "What makes you think I'm attracted to normality?" _

_Spock reached back and removed her hands so he could stand up from the bed. The remains of their candle-lit dinner were still on the table and her long-sleeved top was crumpled on the floor next to his uniform shirt. He paced past all of it, until he reached the window. _

_"Spock." Uhura followed, stopping just behind him. Together, they stared out at the lights of San Francisco across the bay. Before he could stop her, she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her body against his back. "You do want this, don't you?"_

_It took him a second to reply. "I have...desired you since the first moment I saw you." _

_With her cheek resting on his shoulder blade, she smiled. "Me, too." _

_"But I am an instructor," he reminded her. "And you are still a cadet."_

_"That wasn't your worry a second ago." Uhura turned her head to press a soft kiss against his skin. "You said that you've never done this." _

_Spock turned around to face her. "Vulcan sexuality is vastly different than your own."_

_"I know. I aced Xenobiology." Uhura lifted her slender shoulder. "But you're part Human. I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait seven years." _

_"I have never explored this particular facet of my humanity," Spock admitted. "I had not even truly considered experimenting with it. Until you." _

_Uhura blinked. "Is that what this would be? An experiment?" _

_"No!" He spoke with such force that her heart skipped a beat. "No, Nyota. If we were to do this, I would want to please you." Spock paused. "But I am not sure that I know how." _

_Her chest rose and fell as she reached behind her back and unhooked the strap of her bra. She let it fall on the floor and stood in front of him in only her short skirt. _

_His eyes on her body made her shiver with anticipation. Like a starving man, his stare devoured her from head to toe, memorizing her. With her heart beating hard and fast, she reached for him. _

_"I've never done this either," she said softly. "I've been waiting for the right man." Her smile was ever so slightly shy. "Maybe we've been waiting for each other." _

_"Nyota..." _

_She stopped him with a kiss that quickly grew intense. It was only when she felt the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed that she tore her lips away from his. _

_"Xenobiology also tells me that your heart..." She moved her hand down to his lean abdomen. "...is here." _

_Spock kissed her as he lowered her back onto the bed. "But I am an abnormality." He took her hand and placed it on the center of her chest, covering it with his own. "My heart is here." _

* * *

It was a night Uhura would have loved.

The two moons of Degan V were full, hanging in the starry sky like giant paper laterns, one just slightly red, the other a soft yellow. The breeze was pleasantly cool and carried the scent of a hundred different flowers from T'Lan's garden.

T'Lan. As if she sensed her name in his thoughts, his wife entered their bedroom just then. He glanced up from the ancient book open on his lap, an Andorian translation of Vulcan mythology. Almost no original Vulcan texts had survived. Their history and culture were now recorded only in their memories and alien languages.

"Spock." She walked to him, her long robes brushing across the floor. Her hair was braided and coiled at the base of her slender neck, not a lock out of place. Without waiting for an invitation, as she usually did, she sat down in the chair next to his.

Out of respect, he marked his place and closed his book, giving her his attention.

"Are you...unhappy that we have not yet conceived a child?"

Her question surprised him. After a moment of thought, Spock replied, "There is an old Earth saying, 'what is meant to be, will be'."

T'Lan's eyebrow lifted. "I do not believe that fully answers my question."

Instead of replying, Spock turned the question around. "Are you unhappy about it, T'Lan?"

"I am curious," she told him. "Being that as a Vulcan female of-age, I am always fertile, the fact that we have not yet conceived despite weekly copulation is puzzling."

To disagree would have been a lie, yet to tell the truth and admit that he'd had the same thought, only it had been more of a relief than a cause of concern, would have also been unacceptable.

"I suggest," T'Lan went on, "that we should each undergo a physical examination, to ensure that we are capable of implantation and fertilization."

Implantation. Fertilization. That was what it came down to now. Two cells combining to create new cells.

With Uhura, there had been fire and passion, emotions he'd never even imagined. Every time their bodies had joined, he'd felt complete, like all the parts of his soul that he'd never been able to reconcile had only made sense when he was inside her.

It was from that kind of experience that children should be created. Two minds, hearts, and bodies coming together to create life.

Anything less clearly wasn't enough.

But Spock just inclined his head. "I will go to the medical center tomorrow." He hesitated. "Perhaps I should sleep downstairs tonight."

If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn he saw relief flash across T'Lan's face. Whatever it was, it was gone a second later as she coolly nodded. "Until we have an answer, that would be logical."

On other evenings, he'd bid his wife good-night with a very Human kiss to her forehead, something that had surprised her at first, but that she'd learned to tolerate.

But now he merely collected his book and started down the stairs.

* * *

To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: I am honored and humbled by your incredible reponse to this story. Thank you so much. Really. Thank you. Lisa, you know how much you rock. Everyone, please keep reading and enjoying!

BTW, there will probably not be another update until Friday. Thursdays are my crazy days.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Lieutenant Uhura, reporting for duty, Captain."

Kirk swung his head around to look at the woman who stood by the communications station. Her chin was held high, her back was straight...and her stomach stuck out in front of her like she'd swallowed a watermelon.

"Lieutenant," he greeted her. "I think we're covered up here." He smiled generously. "Take the day off and rest."

Uhura's eyes narrowed. "May I speak to you privately, sir?"

Looking forward again, Kirk caught Hikaru Sulu's eye. His navigations officer raised both eyebrows before quickly returning his attention to his controls.

Reluctantly, Kirk dragged himself up from his chair. "Go ahead, Lieutenant," he said when he'd reached her side.

"When I requested to stay aboard the Enterprise, I assumed that I would continue to carry out my duties as your chief communications officer," Uhura informed him, staring straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

Kirk cleared his throat. "And you have. Admirably."

"How is that possible, sir, when in the past two weeks, my scheduled duty time has dropped from 70 hours a week to a measly 21?"

"We thought..."

"We?" she repeated harshly, catching the curious stare of a nearby science officer. "I've been discussed?"

Glancing around, Kirk frowned. "I really need an office or something." Putting his hand on Uhura's back, he guided her to the farthest corner, not entirely out of earshot of the crew, but far enough for a measure of privacy. "Look, the bridge can be a dangerous place, Uhura."

"The whole ship can be a dangerous place," she argued. "In fact, the bridge might just be safer than anywhere else!"

He held up his hands. "I get why you're upset, but Bones says..."

"Don't even try to put this on him," Uhura cut him off.

"I'm not," he protested. "Bones says you need lots of rest, so I was trying to give you that. Time to rest." He looked down at her stomach. "You're feeling okay, aren't you?"

She replied between clenched teeth, "I'm fine, Captain. There is no reason I can't keep performing my duties to the best of my ability. Which, as you are no doubt aware by now, is pretty damn good."

Kirk smiled. "No arguments here."

"And if I may speak freely," she went on. "In the future, I would greatly appreciate it if I could be included on any discussions about my schedule or my health."

"Done," he agreed after a second. Before she could return to her station, he caught her arm. "Uhura..."

She looked down at his hand then back up at his concerned blue eyes. "I'm fine," she repeated, softer this time. "I just want to work, Jim." Her chin trembled. "I need to work."

"Have you heard from him at all?"

"No. May I go, Captain?"

Kirk released her arm with a sigh. "Ensign Mitchell," he addressed the man currently manning communications. "You're relieved." As soon as Uhura was seated with her comm piece attached to her ear, he returned to his chair. "Chekov, lay in a course for the Nagal system."

"Aye-aye, sir," the younger man replied.

"Warp Three, Mr. Sulu."

The two hours it took to reach the Nagal system passed smoothly. For Uhura, they were the first two hours since she'd woken up that morning in which she did not even think about her baby's father. There was a pleasant numbness that came from constantly monitoring the ship's frequencies, picking up bits and pieces of subspace communications as they warped through the stars. In those two hours alone, she heard four different alien languages, none that were cause for alarm, but all of them interesting.

She smiled to herself as her baby kicked happily. Apparently, he liked translating Tellarite as much as she did.

"Dropping out of warp, sir," Sulu eventually announced. "In three...two...one."

The Nagal system was a brilliant casade of pinks and oranges. It was so breathtaking that the crew found themselves momentarily mesmerized.

But only momentarily.

"Sir!" With one hand on her belly and the other over her ear, Uhura shook her head. "I'm picking up subspace interference from somewhere nearby."

"Clarify."

She frowned. "I don't know. It's rumbling...like thunder."

Chekov's fingers flew over his controls. "Captain, our sensors are detecting a disturbance, approximately three thousand kilometers away." He paused. "Two thousand kilometers."

"Slow to impulse. Do we have a visual?"

"Negative, Captain," Sulu said.

"One thousand kilometers," Chekov said.

"Shields up," Kirk ordered. "Uhura, what are you hearing?" When he received no reply, he looked back. "Uhura?"

His communications officer had ripped her earpiece off and was doubled over as much as her stomach would let her, grasping the side of her head like it hurt.

"Five hundred kilometers."

Kirk pointed at the closest science officer to Uhura. "Get her to Sickbay, now!"

"One hundred kilometers and closing, sir!" Chekov yelled.

"I can see it!" Sulu pointed at the canvas of space spread out before them. "That dark line...do you see it?"

"Yeah. I see it." Kirk hit a button the arm of his chair. "All decks, brace for impact. We're about to hit a quantum filament."

* * *

The last person Spock expected to see at the medical center was his father. But as he emerged from the building, Sarek had just reached the top of the long set of steps that led up to the recently constructed facility.

"Father?" Concerned, he asked, "Are you ill?"

Sarek raised his hand as if to ward off his son's concern. "I am not."

"Then why are you here?"

"A routine physical examination," Sarek replied, although there was a strange catch in his voice. "Nothing more." He indicated a nearby bench. "Can you spare a moment?"

"Of course." Together, they sat on the sun-warmed stone.

"I have long been expecting an invitation to dine at your house, Spock," Sarek began after an awkward moment of silence.

Spock looked down at his hands. "For that, I apologize, Father. But I should hope you are aware that you hardly require an invitation to visit. You are welcome at any time."

"That is something your mother would have said." Although his voice was neutral, his eyes were suddenly distant. "I am fortunate that her impeccable manners live on in you."

"Perhaps tomorrow night?" Spock suggested. "I am certain T'Lan would welcome your company."

Sarek eyed him carefully. "Would she?"

"Why would you doubt it?"

"Spock," he began. "Today was your second appointment here at the medical center, was it not?"

He frowned. "How do you know that?"

Sarek ignored the question. "Did the results of today's tests differ from your previous examination?"

"No." Spock turned his eyes up to the sky. "I am in perfect reproductive health and fully capable of..." He hesitated. "...fulfilling my obligation to my people."

Sarek stared at his son's profile. "Obligation," he repeated. "Is that how you see your marriage?"

"Did you not call it that yourself when you informed me that the Elders had arranged the match with T'Lan?"

"Perhaps in a moment of blind zealotry, I did," Sarek wearily admitted.

"Father?"

"When I asked to you to leave the Enterprise, I sensed an emotional response within you. Was I correct in my assessment?"

It took Spock a moment to reply. "In a very short time, the crew of the Enterprise, including her captain, became friends to me, as well as trusted colleagues. I regretted that we had to part ways."

"Is that all you regretted?"

If he closed his eyes, he knew he'd see her face. "Regret often proves itself a useless emotion, even for Humans," Spock rotely informed him, staring straight ahead without blinking. "Especially if a logical path is chosen."

"It is true that logic offers us peace of mind in that we can be certain that our choices are not made impulsively," his father agreed. "But that does not always mean that the logical path is the right path."

Spock turned his head just enough to see Sarek out of the corner of his eye. "Please explain what you mean by that."

"Years ago, you chose to forsake pure logic when you did not complete the koli'nahr and turned down your admission to the Science Academy. You chose to balance your Vulcan mind with your Human heart and enlisted in Starfleet instead." Sarek indicated Spock's black pants and form-fitting dark shirt. "Even now, you choose to wear Federation clothing rather than our traditional attire."

"I fail to see your point."

"Of the two worlds to which you belong, one clearly has more hold upon you than the other." Sarek rose to his feet. "Perhaps I am being too harsh. When your people needed your help, you came, Spock. You set aside your emotions and committed yourself to T'Lan."

Spock's eyes narrowed momentarily before he regained his composure. "Would you ask more of me, Father?"

"I would ask you only to consider this." Folding his hands, Sarek looked down at him. "If your difficulty conceiving is not a physical problem, perhaps you should look deeper into your mind." He reached out to touch his son's shoulder for a brief moment. "You were conceived in the first month of my marriage to your mother, against all odds. Such was the strength of our bond." He stepped back. "I accept your invitation to dinner tomorrow night. Until then, be well, my son."

Lost in thought, Spock remained on the bench for a long time after his father had gone.

* * *

Smoke. Fire. Blood. Pain.

When Kirk came to, he found himself face down on the floor of the bridge, his left arm twisted unnaturally beneath him. He could taste metal in his mouth from where he'd bitten down on his tongue when his chin had made direct impact with the ground.

"Captain!" Blinking against the stinging smoke, Kirk searched for the person calling to him. It was Sulu; he was slowly picking himself up off the ground a few feet away from Kirk. "All you all right, sir?" Sulu asked, rubbing his shoulder.

"Never better," Kirk said, struggling to push himself up to his knees. He gritted his teeth against the pain that the simple action sent shooting up his arm. It was fractured, probably broken. "Damage report?"

Sulu made it into his chair and began pressing buttons on the helm control. "Computers are offline," he announced. "I can't even tell if we've got life-support."

"Well, we're breathing, aren't we?" On his feet now, Kirk began looking around. Chekov was awake on the ground, blinking rapidly as if trying to get his bearings. Seeing the young man turned a light bulb on in Kirk's brain. "Uhura!"

Holding his broken arm against his chest, he limped for the comm station. At least one security officer he passed was dead, sprawled over his station like a rag doll, and although this loss pressed heavily on Kirk's chest, his attention was entirely focused on finding Uhura.

She lay on the ground, not far from the door, her arm curled around her stomach in what had probably been a desperate attempt to shield her baby from any danger. The science officer he'd ordered to escort her to Sickbay was now kneeling beside her limp body, holding her hand.

"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, please wake up!" The woman, whose hair was matted with blood from a deep laceration on her scalp, looked at Kirk frantically. "She's got a pulse, but she's not waking up, sir!"

"See if you can help Sulu get the computers back online," he told the woman. When she hesitated, Kirk added, "Go, Ensign. I've got her."

With the woman on her way to help regain control of the ship, Kirk took Uhura's hand, checking her pulse for himself. It was weak, but steady. Although he knew better than to move her in case of a spinal or head injury, he did put his hand on her belly. After a few horribly long seconds, he felt a sound kick.

Relief washed over him. "You just hang in there, kid," he told the baby. "You hear me? You're gonna be okay. You and your mama both."

"Captain," Sulu called out. "I've got partial computer access. Back-up systems have kicked in. Life-support and emergency power are holding."

"Intership communication?" Kirk asked.

"Limited." Sulu pressed a few buttons. "Damage reports are coming in from all over, though." He paused. "There are casualties, sir, mostly in Engineering."

There would be time to mourn the dead later. Kirk reached up and pressed a button on the comm station. "Kirk to Sickbay." After a moment of static, he tried again. "Bones, can you hear me?"

Through the static, he heard, "...here, Jim. What the...happened?"

"Later. I need you up here."

"...got bodies comin' in...send a team when I can..."

"Bones. It's Uhura."

There was static for several seconds. "...on my way."

Kirk leaned back against the wall, still holding Uhura's hand in his good one. "You know what?" he told her, breathing heavily. "If you wake up and you're totally fine and you don't make me go back on my word to that Vulcan idiot of yours...I won't even say 'I told you so'." He tried to wink, but his face hurt too much. "That's a promise."

* * *

To Be Continued


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: It's technically Saturday now. My apologies. I did try for Friday, but life gets in the way sometimes. Thank you, once again, from the bottom of my heart, for all of the incredible feedback. I continue to be amazed by your enthusiasm for this story. And thanks, of course, to Lisa, who is now and always will be my friend.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

_"I believe he cheated."_

_They were the first words Spock had spoken since dinner. Having reluctantly resigned herself to a silent evening, Uhura gladly put down her Klingon translation of _Hamlet_, and glanced over at the man sitting up in bed beside her. _

_"Can you prove it?" _

_Spock's fingers were steepled at his mouth, a clear sign that he was lost in his thoughts. "You were there, Nyota. How do you think he did it?"_

_"Maybe he just grinned at the computer and it did what he wanted it to do." Uhura snorted delicately. "I mean, it does have a female voice. And no one messes up women better than Jim Kirk." _

_He turned his head to look at her. "What do you know about him?"_

_"He's an arrogant, over-sexed jackass with a massive superiority complex," she immediately replied. "He takes too many risks and he can talk his way in or out of anything." After a pause, she added, "He's also an extremely charismatic leader." _

_"You admire him, then?"_

_"I tolerate him," Uhura corrected. The look on his face when he'd asked made her lips curl up. Jealousy could strike even the most logical of men. "You know..." Rising to her knees, she swung her leg across his, straddling him. "The first time we met, he hit on me and started a bar fight." _

_Spock frowned, but his hands lowered to rest on her slender waist. "Did you...hit back?"_

_Uhura leaned forward, bringing her lips close to his pointed ear. "Hard." _

_When she looked back into his eyes, she could see molten desire simmering just behind his cool facade. Whether he was aware of it or not, his fingers were slowly inching her nightdress up her thighs. "I have yet to make a formal accusation against him. Would it upset you if I did?" _

_"It always upsets me when people break the rules," she said. "But if he cheated, he should have to face the consequences." She cupped Spock's cheek, brushing her thumb across his mouth. "Can we not talk about Jim Kirk right now?" _

_Not even two seconds later, she found herself on her back and there was no more talking on any subject for the rest of the night._

* * *

"Put her down here," McCoy ordered the security officer who had carried Uhura's limp body from the bridge. Kirk had wanted to do it himself, but his chief medical officer had threatened to declare him unfit for duty if he'd tried to lift an unconscious pregnant woman with his broken arm.

All Kirk could do was watch the officer lay Uhura down on an exam table. McCoy, who was either ignoring the oozing laceration on his cheek or hadn't noticed it all, swept the sensor wand of his tricorder up and down her body. "Her vital signs are steady," he announced. "So are the baby's."

"Then why isn't she waking up?" Kirk demanded.

"Could be a lot of things, Jim. I'll need to run a few tests to..."

"Doctor!"

McCoy looked back at the Engineering officer who'd just been brought in with severe plasma burns. "Ah, hell." He plunged a hand through his hair before handing the tricorder to Kirk. "Look...just keep watching this thing. If anything spikes or drops or changes at all, come get me."

Kirk blinked. "Bones, I don't..."

"It's not rocket science, dammit! You're just monitoring her vitals! A first year cadet could do it." With that inspiring speech, McCoy went to help the latest victim of the quantum filament.

Later, Kirk would look back and realize that this arrangement was mostly just McCoy's way of getting him to take it easy on his arm until someone could set it properly, but right then he was so focused on watching over Uhura that he didn't even notice he'd been manipulated.

He might have been captain of the Enterprise, but in Sickbay, McCoy ruled them all.

* * *

When Spock returned to the house he shared with T'Lan, his wife was nowhere to be found. Some very small part of him felt very relieved to discover this...which only reinforced the resolution he'd come to while sitting in front of the medical center after his father's departure.

If he was going to have a productive marriage and help his people, which had been the entire reason he'd left Uhura behind, he was going to have to bond with his wife. Failure to conceive would mean that it had all been for nothing.

He'd hurt Uhura so deeply. He had to believe that he hadn't done so in vain. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he could ever live with himself.

As Spock saw it, the logical first step towards bonding with T'Lan was to better understand her. He could count on his fingers the number of things he knew about his wife. She was a xenobotanist, her entire family had perished at the hands of Nero, she did not like to kiss on the mouth, she was a terrible cook, she drank tea every day and she spent the majority of her time in her garden.

How could he not compare her to Uhura? For months before his relationship with Uhura officially began, he'd been obsessed with every new detail he learned about her. She painted her fingernails because the Academy dress code didn't say she couldn't, a small act of rebellion for a woman who otherwise followed every rule. Her hair smelled like jasmine from her shampoo, she liked sweet drinks, but was willing to try anything once.

She loved to cook alien dishes and her plomeek broth was unrivaled. She missed her family back on Earth and communicated with them often. She loved to laugh and loved to try to make him laugh. She could kiss for hours and still want more...he could go on and on.

Spock shook his head to clear his mind. Whatever happiness he could have had with Uhura was far out of his reach now. And to have regret for a choice he'd made of his own free will seemed highly illogical.

Coming back to the task at hand, Spock headed straight for T'Lan's garden. If the plants and flowers occupied so much of his wife's time and attention, he would have to know everything about them. Perhaps if they bonded over a shared interest in botany, their physical bond would also strengthen.

Per his arrangement with his father and the Elders, the sooner a child was conceived and born, the sooner he could return to the Enterprise.

He did not expect Uhura to be waiting for him. But if Spock knew her at all, he knew she would still be there. The Enterprise had been her dream from the moment she'd learned it had been comissioned. And even just getting to see her every day aboard the ship on which she'd long desired to serve would be enough for him.

With that in mind, he began walking through the hanging garden, making notes on everything he saw.

* * *

When the little red line on the tricorder spiked wildly, Kirk's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Bones!" he yelled. "Something changed!"

On the other side of Sickbay, McCoy had his hands full with a young ops ensign. The man's heart had stopped and despite several shocks from a cardiostimulator, it didn't seem to want to start again. But McCoy was not a quitter.

"Be more specific!" McCoy shouted to Kirk. To the nurse next to him, he ordered. "Raise the charge and try it again."

"The red line is spiking!" Kirk shouted back.

"Which red line? There should be two, one for her and one for the baby," McCoy replied. "Get me a hypo of cordrazine," he told the nurse. To his patient, he urged, "Come on, kid! Stay with me!"

With his own heart beating faster, Kirk examined the tricorder's readings. "The top one. The one under it isn't doing much at all."

"The baby's pulse is the second line," McCoy said, rubbing the back of his hand across his tired eyes. "If it's slowing down while hers is speeding up..." He hesitated. "She could be going into labor."

"But...it's too early." Kirk swung his head back to look at the doctor. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah." The nurse handed him the requested hypospray and McCoy shot the medicine into the ensign's neck. A split second later, the man's whole body jerked as the powerful stimulant jump-started his heart.

"Bones, what do we do? She can't have this baby yet!"

"I want a complete read-out of his brain function," McCoy told the nurse. "If there's any damage from oxygen loss, we don't have much time left to fix it before it's permanent." To Kirk, he ordered, "Check to see if she's dilating."

When he received no reply, McCoy looked across the room and saw Kirk absolutely frozen, staring back at him. "I know you don't need help getting a woman's legs apart, Jim."

"This isn't a woman!" Kirk protested. "It's Uhura. And I can't...you know...look at her like that, Bones! It's not right." He amended this, "Not anymore, at least."

"Oh, for the love of..." Handing his recovering patient off to the nurse, McCoy made his way over to them. He grabbed the tricorder from Kirk and pressed a few buttons. "She's having mild contractions, but she's not dilating," he eventually determined. "I'll give her something to stop them, but it might just delay the inevitable."

"What's the inevitable?"

McCoy's sweat-dampened brow pulled into a worried frown. "This baby could be coming...whether it's time or not."

Kirk's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. "Would it be all right?"

"If we were talking about an entirely Human baby, not without a hell of a lot of medical equipment and luck," McCoy admitted. "She's only at 26 weeks."

"But the kid's not all Human." Kirk looked back at Uhura's rounded stomach. "You think having Vulcan blood could help it survive?"

"Him," McCoy corrected. He nodded when Kirk blinked. "Yeah, it's a boy."

Kirk couldn't hold back a small smile at this revelation. "How much do you know about Vulcan babies, Bones?"

"Not nearly enough," McCoy admitted.

"And with the computers down, we can't access the Starfleet database to-"

"Chekov to Sickbay." A thick Russian accent interrupted him. "Captain, we have regained enough control of the ship's communications to broadcast a distress signal."

Kirk thought for a long second before replying, "Do it. And after that, see if you can get a subspace message through to the Vulcan colony on Degan V."

"Sir?" Chekov hesitated. "We are having limited power and-"

"You heard me, Ensign."

"Yes, sir."

McCoy frowned. "You promised her, Jim."

"I never break a promise, Bones." Kirk bent down to speak in Uhura's ear. "If you can hear me, I'm going to do this to help you. Both of you." He touched her belly. "All three of you."

With that, Kirk started out of Sickbay, but he was stopped at the door by a burly security officer. "Doctor's orders, Captain," the man apologized. "You don't leave until your arm's in a sling."

Clenching his teeth, Kirk gave in and let a nurse begin to examine him, cursing his old friend under his breath the whole time. Each second that ticked by put Uhura's child...Spock's son...in greater danger.

If he was going to keep all of the promises that he'd made, he had only once choice, only one person he could turn to for help.

He just hoped that telling the older Spock about his younger self's child wouldn't mess up the space-time continum too badly.

* * *

To Be Continued


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Every review makes me smile like crazy, so I've pretty much been smiling non-stop for a week. Thank you, all of you, so much for that. Lisa, thanks for putting up with me, as always. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Of all the people who had passed on during the course of his exceedingly long life, Spock missed James T. Kirk the most. It wasn't only that he'd been a great man who had done great things, or that his impulsiveness balanced out Spock's logic, a combination that had saved many lives many times, including their own. He simply missed the man himself: the explorer, the playboy, the living legend.

Jim Kirk had been his first tried and true friend and his mere presence in Spock's life had turned him not only into a better officer and scientist, but into a better man. And although Spock had attended each and every funeral for his colleagues from the Enterprise, only Jim's memorial had brought him almost to the point of tears.

So to hear his old friend's voice again after so many years, young and strong even over the staticky subspace transmission that had taken a full day to reach Degan V, was truly remarkable.

"I probably shouldn't be contacting you like this," Kirk's message began. "But since you didn't tell me that I couldn't...well...you know me, right?"

Spock shook his head. Yes, he certainly did.

"The Enterprise just ran into a quantum filament. We've been hit pretty bad. Lots of damage and injuries. Casualties." Kirk paused. "And...it could get even worse."

A few minutes later, at the end of Kirk's message, Spock sat back in his chair, overwhelmed and stunned into silence.

Uhura. She'd been a friend, a good friend, for the many years they'd served aboard the Enterprise. A beautiful woman who'd grown older with grace and dignity, never losing her passionate spunk or her amazing language abilities even in her declining years. When she had passed on peacefully in her sleep, he'd put exotic and rare Antarian moon blossoms on her grave.

But that was all she'd been to him: colleague and friend. And although there might have been a moment or two over the years when he'd wondered what she was thinking when she looked at him, he had never seriously imagined exploring an intimate relationship with her.

Especially not one intimate enough to result in a child.

How could it be that the younger version of himself took chances and risks and reached for opportunities that he never had? Could Nero's alteration of time and history have started from the very second he'd gone through the black hole, not just for crew of the USS Kelvin, but for the whole universe? Spock's mistakes in the past had created this present...but had they also changed his own life so drastically?

And why hadn't his younger self followed his advice and stayed in Starfleet? It had taken Spock decades to find the balance between his two worlds that his counterpart had somehow attained so much sooner...and yet, like any young fool who wouldn't realize the error of his ways for years to come, he'd thrown it all away.

Clearly, Spock had been entirely too focused on the preservation of the remaining aspects of Vulcan culture. He hadn't even been aware that his younger self was on the colony at all, much less married and intent on his original plan of helping to rebuild their race...literally.

In his message, Kirk hadn't asked him to confront his younger self, still fearing the potential paradoxes he assumed would happen if they ever met. He had only asked for advice on Vulcan births and fetal development, to help Uhura deliver her child.

His child, too, in a way.

But while he would have enjoyed counseling his headstrong friend once more, Spock knew he could do so much more.

There was no time to waste. After downloading a copy of the message onto a communicator which he slipped into the folds of his hooded cloak, Spock left his tiny home in the mountains and began to make his way down to the colony.

* * *

It took a full day for the Enterprise to even begin to recover from their encounter with the devastating space anomaly. And somewhere between the computers coming back online and Scotty announcing that repairs to the warp chamber were underway and he'd have his bonnie lass speeding through the stars again soon, Uhura woke up.

The first person she saw when she opened her eyes had a bandage on his cheek and a small, but unmistakable smile on his usually-cranky face.

"It's about time, Sleeping Beauty," McCoy told her. When she tried to lift her head, he held her down with a gentle hand to her shoulder. "Don't move just yet. There's a lot I've got to tell you."

Her own hands drifted to her belly, still round and firm. Her throat was dry, but she managed to whisper, "My baby?"

He hesitated a second too long. "That's what I need to tell you. Do you remember what happened on the bridge?"

Uhura looked back and forth between his eyes. "Please just tell me if my baby's okay."

"Your baby is fine." Turning her head a bit on the pillow, she saw Kirk coming towards her. His arm was in a sling, but he was flashing his trademark grin. Somehow, it was almost comforting. "He just tried to join the world a little bit too soon." Kirk clapped a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "But Bones stopped that, didn't you, Bones?"

The doctor let out a long-suffering sigh before returning his attention to his still-pregnant patient. "I gave you some drugs to help stop you from going into labor. I don't want to jump the gun, but they seemed to have worked. You haven't had a contraction in several hours."

Uhura's chin trembled as she nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you." With a nod of gruff acknowledgement, McCoy moved off to check on the rest of his patients. Left alone with Kirk, Uhura closed her eyes, allowing twin tears to spill down her temples. "I remember the quantum filament," she told him. "Is everyone all right?"

"Not everyone," Kirk admitted, his voice uncharacteristically grave. "But it would have been a lot worse without the shields up, which they wouldn't have been if you hadn't heard the subspace distortion."

"Subspace distortion..." With her eyes still closed, she smiled softly. "He taught me how to listen for it. What was normal...what was abnormal. He said...my ears already knew how. They just needed guidance."

"Well, then, I guess I owe him, too."

Uhura's wet lashes lifted. "Have I been unfair to him?" When he frowned, she clarified, "I let him make this...huge choice without all the facts. Maybe if I'd told him about the baby...he'd be here right now. And I wouldn't feel like..." A sob tore through her. "Like my whole heart's been...ripped from my chest..."

"Hey...it's okay." Kirk took her trembling hand in his good one. Not knowing what else to say, he just let her cry for a moment. When her tears began to slow, he said, "Growing up without a dad...it's not so terrible, you know? I mean, look at how I turned out."

Through her tears, Uhura sniffed. "Didn't I hear you drove a car off a cliff when you were eleven?"

"Younger than that," Kirk corrected her. "But that was a whole, you know, step-dad...thing." He let out a regretful chuckle. "I guess I'm not a real good example."

"You're not that bad, Jim."

A moment passed between them before Kirk cleared his throat. "As soon as Bones will let you go, we'll get you moved to your quarters. He wants you on indefinite bed-rest," he said. "I told him you weren't going to be happy about it, but-"

"No, it's fine. I'll do whatever it takes to keep this baby safe."

The look gave her was strange. "I'm glad you said that."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "No reason." Bending down, Kirk pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Get some rest. I'll be back to check on you later."

But sleep eluded her, even in the quietest corner of Sickbay. Eventually, despite the baby's sporadic movements, Uhura drifted off.

In her dreams, Spock was holding their child in his arms, murmuring to him in Vulcan.

_Dif-tor heh smusma...my son._

* * *

Sarek arrived for dinner exactly at the arranged time, not a second before or after. As Spock stood back and watched T'Lan greet his father, he had a flash of regret for extending the invitation. He and his father had never shared a meal together without his mother. Amanda Grayson had been a buffer between the two men she loved so dearly, managing to hold her family together even after Spock turned down the Science Academy and joined Starfleet.

T'Lan, for all of her Vulcan manners, could hardly be expected to fill his mother's shoes. Spock predicted a silent evening of stilted conversation ending in a debate over one topic or another which would be carried out logically and on the pretense of civility, but would no doubt widen the rift that still existed between them, despite their recent shared loss.

In other words, it was going to be a very long night.

"Spock." Sarek entered the house with his hands folded at his chest and looked around for a long moment. "You chose well with this house. It is well-built and aestetically pleasing."

"That is entirely T'Lan's doing." Upon hearing this, T'Lan lowered her chin, avoiding eye-contact as if they might catch her in a moment of pride. "Perhaps after dinner, you would like to see her garden. It is unmatched on this colony."

T'Lan looked up at him. Instead of acknowledging her husband's praise, she turned to Sarek. "I will walk you through it later, Elder Sarek."

"That would be agreeable," his father told her.

Thirty seconds of silence followed; each second felt like an hour. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Spock pointed to the patio. "I thought we would dine outside," he said. "After you, Father."

Almost as soon as they were seated at the table on the patio overlooking the gardens, before they had even begun the first course of pok tar, the front door chimed.

"Are you expecting other company tonight, Spock?" Sarek asked.

"I am not." Spock stood up. "Excuse me."

The chime rang twice more before Spock reached the front of the house. When he pressed the door's control panel, it slid open, revealing a very familiar face.

"Spock." The older, wiser, wearier version of himself stood before him. "I am sorry for my unannounced visit, but there is little time to waste on formalities." From his robes, he withdrew a communicator, which he held like it was gold-pressed latinum. "Take this. Listen to it." He paused. "Let it in."

Spock's brow furred. "I do not understand."

"You will." His own hand, though wrinkled and weathered with age, reached out and closed his fingers around the communicator. "If you let yourself." Spock watched his older self take several paces backwards. "You are, in many ways, an enigma to me, but I have to believe that despite our differences, you know the path you want to take. And that this..." He gestured to the house. "...is only a stop along your way to something for which I have long searched."

"And what is that?"

The old man shook his head. "You should already know. Because you have already found it once."

"Spock?" Upon hearing his father's voice, Spock turned his head to glance back inside. When he looked back, his older self was gone.

"Who was it?" Sarek asked, coming up behind his son.

Spock slipped the communicator into his pocket. "The door chime must be malfunctioning. There was no one there."

Returning to dinner, Spock could think of little else besides the communicator pressed against his hip. Whatever it contained had to be vitally important.

He wouldn't lie to himself. It would just be illogical.

* * *

To Be Continued

A/N: The Vulcan phrase comes straight from the very first Star Trek movie. It's easy enough to look up, although you can probably figure it out without too much trouble.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Still smiling:) Thank you all, again, so much for taking the time out of your lives to read my story and write such kind reviews. Thanks to Lisa, as always, for being my sounding board even when things take a completely different direction than discussed. Enjoy!

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Much later that night, long after his father had left, Spock found a quiet spot in the middle of T'Lan's garden and sat down with the communicator. Steeling himself for whatever news lay ahead, he pressed a button to call up the latest recorded message.

Jim Kirk's voice boomed out into the silent night.

_"Spock...I mean...Ambassador Spock. I probably shouldn't be contacting you like this, but since you didn't tell me that I couldn't...well...you know me, right? The Enterprise just ran into a quantum filament. We've been hit pretty bad. Lots of damage and injuries. Casualties. And...it could get even worse._

_"I don't know if you're keeping tabs on our Spock, but if you aren't then you probably don't know that he's left Starfleet. Yeah, you heard that right. He's taken a leave of absence to get married and repopulate your species. Believe me, I told him he didn't have to get married to do that, but he's got all these archaic ideas about it, like the kid's gonna turn out wrong if he's not with its mother._

_"Which makes what I'm going to tell you next even more...complicated. See, before he left the Enterprise, he sort of...well...let's just say, he's already going to be a dad...and not by the Vulcan he's marrying. Maybe you knew Nyota Uhura in your lifetime, maybe you didn't, but our Spock sure does. And now she's having his baby and he doesn't know and he's married to someone else and I'm not allowed to tell him anything about it! _

_"When we hit the quantum filament, Uhura was injured pretty badly. She's unconcious and she might be going into labor way too early. Bones...Dr. McCoy is trying to stop it, but the problem is that he isn't sure what needs to be done for a baby that's a quarter Vulcan._

_"We need help if we're going to save them both, Uhura and the baby. Since I can't tell you...the younger you, I mean...I figured you could do something. Maybe there's something the baby needs that we don't know about. Or maybe its Vulcan blood could make it strong enough to survive if it was born now. I don't know. I just need your help._

_"By the time you get this message, it could all be over. But if you get it in time, remember your own rule. Spock can never know. If he found out somehow and only came back because of the baby, I swear to god I would maroon his ass on Rura Pente. If he doesn't come back because he loves her, he doesn't deserve to have her. _

_"Thank you, Ambassador. Kirk out." _

The entire world felt like it had stopped moving beneath Spock's feet. His whole body was numb as if his blood had stopped running through his veins. He was cold. He was hot. He felt light-headed and nauseated and...yet...he was in complete and utter awe.

Uhura was pregnant. With his child. He was going to be a father.

And her life was in serious danger.

"Spock." He didn't acknowledge his wife coming up beside him through the hanging vines and flowers. His mind was a million miles away, trying to imagine what Uhura might look like carrying their baby. "Is the message accurate?"

"How much did you hear?" He heard the words he spoke, but he couldn't feel his mouth making them.

"Enough." T'Lan walked past him with a water can in her hand, as if she'd actually come out for some late night gardening rather and hadn't followed him. "I often wondered if there was another woman occupying your thoughts." She spritzed water on her Bajoran lilac vines. "Her name is Uhura, then?"

Spock swallowed. "Nyota. She was-she is my-"

"Lover? So I gathered from the message." T'Lan examined one purple stalk of lilac in the light of the half-full moons. "She is Human?" He lowered his chin in acknowledgement. "And you did not know she was expecting your child?"

"No." The initial shock was beginning to wear off, but the amazement had only tripled. A baby with Uhura. Part of him and part of her living in one tiny creature. "I did not."

T'Lan never faltered with the water can, moving from bud to bud with extreme precision. "Would you have married me had you known of her condition?"

"Do not ask me to answer that," Spock said after a moment.

"I believe that is all the answer I require." T'Lan moved on to the Andorian orchids. "May I speak freely?"

"This is not a starship." Spock bolted to his feet, his hand closed tightly enough around the communicator to turn his knuckles white. "You have always been able to speak your mind with me! You are my wife, not my domestic android!"

T'Lan stopped working, but did not turn to look at him as she spoke. "You did not want this marriage. From the moment we took our vows, your body has been a true and faithful husband, but your mind...even your soul...have been absent. And now I know where they have been. On the Enterprise." She paused. "With her."

Spock closed his eyes momentarily. "We both entered into this arrangement for duty, not for love. It was...a logical match."

"But it was not a bonded match." Setting down her water can, T'Lan finally looked back at him. When their eyes met, he was stunned to see deep-seeded pain and grief in her eyes, the kind that could overwhelm even those who had purged all emotions. "I was bonded once," she told Spock. "His name was Sutak and it was arranged when we were seven. But...it was more than just a promise between our families. It was..."

"Love."

T'Lan quickly diverted her eyes and walked a few feet away. After a few moments, she spoke again. "We were to be married. He had intended to come to Andoria with me, but his responsibilities with the High Council kept him on Vulcan. He was still there when..." She didn't need to finish. "Sutak is gone, but my bond with him remains."

"Then why did you agree to our match?"

"Because, just as you do, I fear our people's extinction." T'Lan walked back to him. "But I know now that if I cannot be with Sutak, I do not wish to be with anyone. Even you."

Spock frowned. "What are you saying, T'Lan?"

"I am saying...that I wish to dissolve our marriage contract on the grounds that we are incompatible in mind and in body." She reached for her water can. "I am releasing you from your vows, Spock. And I hope...I truly do hope...that your child arrives safely and that you and its mother can forge the bond that you and I never would have."

He watched her go back to watering her plants, as though the end of their marriage had no affect on her emotional state. But he knew better of his soon-to-be ex-wife now. She was capable of great feeling.

Just not for him.

"Thank you." When he put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, T'Lan froze up as she always had when their bodies came into contact. This would be the last time she would have to endure his touch. "Perhaps one day you will be ready for another bond."

"I do not believe bonding works like that." She eased herself out of his embrace. "You should not wait to leave the colony until tomorrow. Take a shuttlecraft. Rejoin your ship." She paused. "Be there when your child is born."

Spock took a few steps towards the house before he turned back to her. "Please tell my father that I-"

"I will," she promised. "Go, Spock. If I could be with Sutak, nothing would keep me here."

He lowered his chin in grateful acknowledgement. "Goodbye, T'Lan.

Although he walked out of the house, carrying nothing but the communicator still in his hand, by the time he reached the shuttle docks, he was running.

* * *

_At 2100 hours on a Friday night, the long-range sensor lab should have been deserted. But when Uhura entered her student ID code to the door's keypad and it slid open, she was surprised to see Commander Spock seated at the lab's main computer. _

_Surprised, but not upset. After having what she considered to be two very successful dinner dates with him that had both ended in long looks exchanged as they parted ways outside her dorm, she was more than ready for some alone time with the man who had begun to occupy her more salacious day dreams. _

_He turned his head just enough to acknowledge her entrance. "Good evening, Cadet Uhura."_

_"Commander Spock." Her stomach swirled, but she forced herself to stay cool and collected...almost Vulcan. Maybe he'd like that. "Am I interrupting?"_

_"Not at all." After pressing a few buttons on the computer, he stood up and tugged on the bottom of his dark grey uniform jacket to straighten it. "You reserved the lab at this time, did you not?" _

_Uhura bit back a smile. "How did you know that, sir?" _

_"May I inquire as to the sensor project on which you intend to work?" he asked, side-stepping the question. _

_"Actually, I just needed a quiet place to study. I have a transporter theory test next week, and physics isn't my best subject. And since my roommate has a new boyfriend, I know I won't get any studying done at the dorm, so..." She looked around the darkened lab. "This seemed like a good idea." _

_She felt him watching her, but she carefully avoided his stare until he finally spoke. "Physics is, as you might say, my best subject." He paused. "If you wish, I could go over your notes with you." _

_Could he hear her heart beating? She felt like it was pounding so hard beneath her breast that he just might be able to make out the rhythmic thumping. "I'd like that," she told him. "A lot." _

_An hour later, Uhura had a new understanding and appreciation for the theory of transportation. Or perhaps any subject would have been fascinating when taught in Spock's deep, patient voice._

_Several times as he explained the equations, she caught herself staring at his profile. The clean, even lines of his haircut, the shape of nose and lips, the fascinating curve and point of his ear...so many of her fellow female classmates might never think him handsome. And maybe he wasn't when compared to someone like Jim Kirk, with his rugged good looks and mischievous eyes. _

_But Spock possessed an inner attractiveness that she had never seen in Kirk or any of the other male cadets who were just like him. Spock was a silent mystery, a puzzle comprised of so many pieces. It might take a long time to put them all together, but she had a feeling that the picture the pieces created would be worth the effort. _

_"Commander," she interrupted him. As they were seated side by side at the sensor lab's work station, he glanced over at her. "You knew I was going to be here tonight, didn't you?" _

_It took a second for him to reply. "Yes."_

_"Is that why you came?" She ran her tongue over her lower lip, making it glisten in the artificial light. "To see me?" _

_Spock looked back at her physics notes. "Yes." _

_Her stomach twisted again. "I've wanted to see you, too." _

_"We see each other three times a week in class," he reminded her. Or maybe it was a reminder to himself. "And we had dinner together just last Thursday." _

_"And yet...it's not enough, is it?" Mustering up every ounce of her courage, Uhura leaned into him. Her kiss landed on the corner of his mouth. The lab was silent enough for her to hear him inhale sharply._

_Her lips lingered on his skin for several long seconds before she drew back reluctantly. "I've wanted to do that for-" _

_Spock grabbed the back of her head; his mouth sought out hers in a kiss that was greedy, primal and hot enough to elicit a whimper of need from the back of her throat. She gripped his shoulders as the kiss grew harder, hard enough to leave bruises. She didn't care. It was the most erotic moment of her life so far and she wasn't about to do anything that might make it stop._

_But it did stop a few seconds later when Spock suddenly tore himself away from her. As he staggered to his feet and put half the sensor lab between them, she could hear him mutter a Vulcan word that she didn't understand. _

_"Spock..."_

_With one hand on the nearest console for support, Spock shook his head. "Forgive me." His voice, so composed when he spoke of transporter equations, was now raw and hoarse. "That was...inappropriate of me." She could see his back rising and falling with each deep breath he took. "Should you wish to...report my misconduct to the Academy ethics committee..."_

_"Stop." With her lips still throbbing from his kiss, Uhura stood up. "Don't imagine, even for a second, that I didn't want that or that you forced it on me. I was right there, kissing you back, logic be damned!" _

_"An instructor in a position of authority over a cadet shall not engage in physical relations with..."_

_"And don't quote me the rule book!" She manuvered herself in front of him, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Kiss me again." _

_"Cadet Uhura, I do not-"_

_"It's Nyota." Uhura captured his face between her hands. "I want you to call me Nyota." _

_Spock gently grasped her slender wrists, but she held onto him. When it became clear she wasn't going to let go, he lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. "Nyota," he breathed. She closed her eyes as their lips met again, softer and slower this time, but no less intense than their first kiss. _

_"Nyota..." _

* * *

Uhura's first thought upon waking up to the feeling of wet warmth between her legs was that she might have lost control of her bladder in her sleep. But then she called up the overhead lights and pushed back the covers...and saw blood.

She was still screaming when McCoy burst into her quarters with his medical team only minutes later. By the time Kirk arrived, the doctor's hypospray had calmed her down enough to transport her to Sickbay.

"It's happening, Jim," McCoy said as they rushed into the turbolift. Before the doors closed, he shook his head. "This time, I can't stop it."

Left alone in the hallway, his feet and chest bare, all Kirk could do was curse the Vulcan who had caused all of this...and yet wasn't even there to keep it all from slipping away.

* * *

To Be Continued


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I really cannot say "thank you" enough times. Seriously, all of your incredible feedback just keeps me going like crazy. I appreciate it so much, each and every comment. Thank you. Lisa, you rock, hon:)

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Starfleet Command, this is Commander Spock requesting the current location of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701."

With both hands on the ship's controls as it flew through space at Warp Four, the fastest it was able to go, Spock waited for a reply to his transmission.

"Commander Spock, the last confirmed location of the Enterprise was Rigel, where Captain Kirk received orders to report to Nagal Prime. However, they are overdue by two days and their current location is unknown. All attempts at communication have thus far failed. The USS Obama is the closest ship to the Nagal system and they have been dispatched to locate the Enterprise."

Spock frowned, remembering Kirk's message. "Have there been any reports of quantum filaments in that sector?"

A few minutes passed before he received a reply. "Affirmative. One report. The filament is believed to have originated in the Nagalese Nebula."

It was all the information he needed. Shutting down the subspace transmission, Spock laid in a course for Nagal Prime.

* * *

The pain was like nothing Uhura had ever experienced. It came in great waves, slamming into her body every few minutes, leaving her weaker each time until she could barely lift her head from the pillow when the next contraction struck.

And yet, the baby refused to come.

"Can't you give her anything?" she heard Kirk ask McCoy. He was holding her hand, as he had been for hours; his palm was a sweaty anchor to the world, the only thing she could grip onto in her agony. "She can't take much more of this."

"I've already given her too much as it is, Jim." Above her, she could just make out the doctor shaking his head. "It's time to talk about a Ceasarian before we lose them both."

Swearing under his breath, Kirk lifted Uhura's hand to his mouth and gave it a brotherly kiss. "Will the baby be all right, Bones?" When he didn't answer, Kirk swore again. "I'm not supposed to be the one making this decision! It's her body! It's his kid!"

"Jim...a captain doesn't always get to pick and choose his responsibilities."

Kirk closed his red-rimmed eyes for a long moment. "All right," he finally said. "Do it."

Uhura had no energy or will to protest. Her baby wanted to be born, but it needed help. Whatever that entailed, she was more than willing to go along with it.

McCoy's face appeared above her, blocking out the overhead light. "I'm going to give you something that will numb you, Uhura," he told her. "You'll be awake, but you won't feel a thing, I promise."

"Just save my baby," she whispered. "Please..." With a nod, McCoy moved off to prepare for surgery. When he was gone, Uhura weakly squeezed Kirk's fingers. "Jim?"

He lifted his head and looked down at her. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"If something...happens to me..."

"Nothing's going to happen to you," he said firmly. "Except that you're gonna be a mom real soon."

Her brow crinkled. "If I don't make it," she tried again. "Please take him...to his father. Tell him..."

Kirk cut her off again with a hard chuckle. "I swear...no wonder you two fell for each other. You're both annoyingly fatalistic!" He shook his head. "You're going to be fine and your baby is going to be fine. A win-win situation." He grinned. "My favorite kind."

McCoy returned just then with a hypospray. "Just relax, Uhura." As gently as possible, he injected the numbing agent into her neck. Almost instantly, the pain disappeared and was replaced by the strangest sensation that she was no longer attached to herself.

When a sterile sheet was draped over her lower body, Uhura closed her eyes and tried to picture the child she'd soon be meeting.

* * *

The bridge of the Enterprise was tense and silent, as if each on-duty crew member was afraid to speak, afraid to even breathe as they waited for any news from Sickbay.

Every now and then, they would look around, seeking out eye contact. Chekov would glance back at Sulu who had been left in charge of the bridge; Sulu would look at the Engineering station where Scotty was still making repairs. But no words beyond the occasional technical command were exchanged.

So when Chekov checked his sensor and noticed a small ship approaching their location at warp speed, he was almost afraid to say anything about it out loud. "Sir, I am detecting incoming ship, bearing 084 mark 7."

Sulu frowned. "Do we have a visual?"

"Negative. Our magnifiying capability is still being repaired," Chekov informed him. "The ship will be reaching us in two minutes."

From the back of the bridge, the communications officer announced, "We're being hailed."

"Open a channel." Standing up, Sulu took a breath. He'd always wanted to do this. "This is Lieutenant Sulu of the USS Enterprise. If you are responding to our distress signal, we are grateful for your help, but our primary systems are back online and-"

"Lieutenant Sulu," a familiar voice replied. "This is Commander Spock requesting docking clearance and permission to come aboard."

Stunned, Sulu pointed at the comm. "Close the frequency," he ordered. "Kuso," he cursed in his native tongue.

"That's a right wanker out there!" Scotty declared, his brogue thick with righteous fury. "Asking to come on board like he's not got a care in the world! Just say the word and we can be at Warp Two, maybe even Three if I tickle her under the chin just right."

"We're not going to warp without orders from the captain," Sulu told him. He ran his hand down his face. "All right, Ensign," he said to the communications officer. When he heard the tell-tale beep of the frequency opening, he said, "Commander Spock, you're granted permission to land in Docking Bay Two. Sulu, out."

Chekov looked up at him. "Should we be contacting Sickbay, sir?"

"Not just yet." He paused, still thinking. "Prepare the bay for docking. I'm going down there." On his way out, Sulu announced, "You have the bridge, Lieutenant Scott."

Scotty blinked several times, looking around at his fellow crewmates. "Well, now. Isn't this an interesting turn of events?"

* * *

Spock landed the small Vulcan vessel with ease at the end of a row of Federation shuttlecrafts. He barely took the time to secure the inertial dampeners before he hit the door release. Stepping out into the Enterprise, Spock felt more alive than he had in months.

All together, he'd spent less than a year on this ship, hardly a significant portion of his life. So why did he feel like he'd just come home?

Hikaru Sulu was waiting for him at the entrance to the bay, his arms folded tightly across his gold uniform shirt, a carefully neutral expression on his face.

"Welcome back, Commander Spock," he said coolly.

"Lieutenant." Spock started to walk past him, but Sulu stopped him in his tracks. "Is there a problem, Mr. Sulu?"

"Where are you going, sir?"

"Are you under orders to escort me around the ship?"

Sulu smiled without warmth. "She's not in her quarters or on the bridge." He paused. "She went into labor last night."

Not even a full second later, Spock pushed past him. This time when Sulu tried to stop him, he grabbed the younger man's collar. "Do not get in my way again."

To his credit, Sulu did not back down. "Don't hurt her again and I won't." Spock released him. "She's in Sickbay," Sulu told him. "If I were you, I'd hurry."

Later, Spock would not be able to remember the minutes it took him to get to Sickbay. He had one focus, one mission, and if anyone had happened to be in his path, they hadn't been for very long.

When he reached the main medical bay, the doors slid open automatically. The on-duty nurse, Ensign Chapel, took one look at him, pale and out of breath, and pointed to a door across the room. "They're in there."

Uhura's face was the first thing he saw when he entered the surgery room. As soon as the door opened, her head turned towards him and their eyes met.

"Spock." It was Kirk who said his name, but he ignored the man as he took jerky, hesitant steps towards her. "Bones?" He pointed to Spock.

The doctor, who had been half-hidden behind a sheet that was suspended around Uhura's body, looked up, saw the new arrival, scowled and returned his attention to his patient. "Standby with the oxygen," he ordered the equally masked and gloved nurse beside him. "Here we go."

With one arm in a sling and his other hand occupied holding Uhura's, all Kirk could do was stand up as Spock approached the bed. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

Still, Spock ignored him. "Nyota?" When he reached her side, he dropped to his knees, putting his face only inches from hers. "Are you...how are..." At a loss for words, he hung his head. "I am sorry, Nyota. Why did you not tell me?"

He felt her fingers touch his cheek, but she had no chance to reply. At that same moment McCoy announced, "He's out; I've got him!"

Spock looked up at Uhura in wonder. "He?"

She smiled and nodded through her tears. "Our son," she whispered.

Kirk tore his stare away from them and looked at the impossibly tiny child in McCoy's hands. "Why isn't he crying?" Kirk demanded.

"He will," McCoy said, like the infant could understand and follow the order. But with gentle hands that belied his gruff tone, the doctor rubbed the child's wrinkled back until he issued a single, strangled wail.

Although his mouth was covered with a mask, McCoy's grin lit up his eyes. "Uhura." His tone cooled somewhat. "Spock." He held the baby up enough for them to see their child for the first time. "Welcome to parenthood."

* * *

"To all Enterprise personnel, this is Ensign Pavel Chekov requesting your attention please. Pozdravlay s dnem rozdeny rabenko! Please send your most sincere congratulations to Lieutenant Uhura on the safe delivery of a baby boy this afternoon. There will be small celebration in Mess Hall at 1700 hours, arranged by Lieutenant Scott. Please feel free to come by. That is all. Chekov, out."

* * *

To Be Continued

A/N: Special thanks to Tatyana, one of the nurses where I work who helped me with the Russian.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: I'm rendered speechless by all of your kind reviews on this story. Thank you so much. And Lisa, thanks for being my sounding board and for telling me when too much is really too much.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

As Kirk only had one good arm and Uhura could barely hold her own head up, there was only one person to whom McCoy could hand the mewling newborn after the nurse cleaned him up and wrapped him in a sterile blanket.

He had to admit, he took a certain amount of mean pleasure in seeing a hint of terror in Spock's eyes as he held the child out to its father. "Take him," McCoy ordered. "I've still got work here."

Spock looked down at Uhura. Her eyelashes lowered briefly, a silent sign of encouragement. Bolstered by this, he took the baby with shaking hands.

His son weighed only four pounds, and that was only due to his dual heritage. Vulcan babies developed faster than Human children and for this, he was very grateful. If his calculations were correct, his son had been born dangerously early and had he not possessed mixed blood, he likely wouldn't be crying and kicking and generally announcing to the world that he was most put out to have been expelled from his warm home inside his mother.

Spock's eyes swept over the child in a combination of analysis and wonderment. The baby's skin was the color of heavily creamed coffee; his hair was dark and wispy. He had ten delicate fingers and ten tiny toes. And his ears...not exactly pointed, but definitely not rounded either. He was perfect.

Kneeling again, Spock brought the baby down to where Uhura could see him. "Hi, sweetheart," she whispered to the squirming child. A tear dripped off the end of her nose. "You're beautiful..."

Standing a few feet off to the side, Kirk just watched.

Some deep-seeded instinct compelled Spock to secure the child in the crook of his arm. "He requires a name." He hesitated, like he wasn't quite sure what role he was supposed to take in this matter. "Have you already chosen one?"

"There's one I like," Uhura said. "But I thought...maybe you'd rather give him a Vulcan name."

"What is it?"

Uhura smiled softly. "I want to call him Grayson."

Spock's throat closed up; he swallowed several times, trying to force his voice to work. "I believe...my mother would have loved that."

"Really?"

He looked back down at their baby. "She would have been a proud grandmother." When, after a moment, Uhura had said nothing to this, Spock looked back at her. "Nyota?" Her eyes had closed, like she had no strength left to keep them open. Spock looked up at Kirk.

The captain had turned his attention to McCoy as the doctor worked to close up the surgical incisions he'd made in order to bring the baby into the world. McCoy's brow was dotted with perspiration and there were several brushes of blood on his sterile apron that hadn't been there only minutes before.

"Bones?" Kirk cleared his throat. "What's going on?"

"Get two units of synthetic O-Neg," McCoy ordered the nurse. "And prep a hypo of Delactovine."

Spock had only taken a basic course in Emergency Medicine at the Academy, but he still remembered the tenants of first aid. "Is that necessary? Is she going into shock?" he demanded. "Doctor?"

Kirk tried again. "Bones?"

McCoy shouldered the sweat off his forehead. "She will if I can't find the source of this bleeding, so do me a favor...both of you. Shut up and let me work!"

For the first time in his life, Spock could actually taste fear, a strong, bitter flavor in the back of his throat.

Uhura's eyelashes fluttered madly as she struggled against unconsciousness. He had no idea if she could see him, but in case she could, he did everything possible to keep his rising panic from showing on his face.

There was so much he wanted to say to her. Things he had to tell her, apologies he wanted to be make. Her forgiveness was the only absolution Spock needed or desired. He wanted to grab her slender shoulders and demand that she not leave him, to make it clear to her that his life was empty without her and now that he had her back, he refused to lose her again.

He wanted to give in to his emotions, if only for a moment, to scream and shout and cry and beg and plead...anything at all to keep her from fading away.

But Jim Kirk beat him to it.

"Stay with us, Uhura," Kirk urged her. "That's an order, you hear? We've come way too far for you to give up now."

"Damnit!" McCoy's apron was now smeared all over with dark red stains. "She's losing it faster than I can give it to her!"

"Uhura..." Kirk put his good hand to her forehead. It was an innocent touch, but for some reason it sent a white-hot spike of jealousy straight down Spock's spine. "C'mon, honey. It's really not okay for you to scare us like this."

Spock watched Kirk stroke her dark hair for only a few seconds before he knew what he had to do.

"Please take my son," he said to Nurse Chapel, who had joined them to deliver the Delactovine. The blonde woman eased the baby out of his arms. When his hands were free, Spock put one on Kirk's arm. "Step back."

Kirk frowned. "Do you really think you get to come in at the last second and start giving-" He stopped when he saw Spock position his fingers on Uhura's cheek, temple and jaw. "What are you doing?" The memory came to him all at once. "You're doing that thing! That melding thing! You can't, Spock! I know what that feels like...it's too much for her to take!"

Ignoring him, Spock closed his eyes, cleared his own thoughts and searched for a way into Uhura's mind.

* * *

_On the first day of the new semester, Uhura arrived at her morning class almost an hour early. She'd already been up for two hours, brushing up on the subtle differences in Vulcan written characters. She'd gotten the highest marks of anyone in her introductory course, but over the summer break, Administrator Velar, who had been teaching Vulcan at the Academy since the day it had been founded, had passed away from Bendii Syndrome. _

_Consquently, a new instructor for Vulcan Dialects had been selected at the last minute, a Commander Spock according to her course schedule. Uhura was not ashamed to admit that she'd been Velar's favorite student. She saw no reason why it should be any different with his replacement. _

_She chose her favorite seat, first row, right side-instructors usually glanced to their left first when selecting students to call upon which put her right in their path of vision immediately-and sat down to wait. _

_Twenty minutes before class was due to start, the lecture room door slid open and a tall Vulcan with razor-sharp dark hair entered. He wore his dark grey uniform well and like most Vulcans she'd met-save for Velar who'd already been suffering a loss of emotional control from his Syndrome and had often smiled and even laughed on occasion-his face was a blank canvas. _

_Until he noticed her sitting there. When their eyes met, she was surprised to see actual life within their dark centers. And, she couldn't fail to notice, a touch of annoyance. _

_"You are early, Cadet..."_

_"Uhura, sir," she said, standing up. "Nyota Uhura. Maybe Adminstrator Velar spoke of me?" Before she could stop herself, she added, "I received the highest mark in his class last semester." _

_"I was not acquainted with Administrator Velar," he brushed off her comment. "You are aware that class begins at 0800, are you not? Perhaps you have difficulty telling time, Cadet Uhura?" _

_"No, sir." She tilted her head to one side, her long ponytail falling over her shoulder. "And I don't believe I've ever been chastised for being early."_

_He said nothing for a long moment, during which Uhura completely convinced herself that she'd not only ruined her chance at a good first impression with her sharp tongue, she also might have doomed herself to a hostile and unproductive working relationship with the man who would ultimately be in charge of her grade. _

_Finally, he spoke. "A pity you mistook my observation for criticism." His eyes lingered on her a second longer, before he turned his attention to the computer podium in front of him. _

_Uhura sank back into her seat, crossed her legs and instinctively tugged at the bottom of her short red uniform skirt. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was to accidentally flash this particular Vulcan. _

_At precisely 0800, although only half of the lecture hall was filled with cadets, he addressed the class. "I am Commander Spock. This is Advanced Vulcan Syntax. I will be following the syllabus left by Administrator Velar. As my reputation no doubt preceeds me, let me make it clear that I expect much from students who have made it to this level of study. Therefore, with very few exceptions, this class will be conducted entirely in Vulcan, starting now." _

_Uhura tried to bite back an enthusiastic smile, but she couldn't quite hide it completely. She felt Commander Spock's stare on her and when she looked up, he immediately diverted his eyes to a spot across the room. _

_"The base dialect of Vulcan Standard originated in the city of Shi'khar," he began. He spoke his own language like he spoke Federation Standard, smoothly and yet with great precision. Uhura stared at him without blinking, fascinated by the way his mouth moved to form each syllable. _

_If she hadn't been so focused on watching him speak, she might have noticed how studiously he avoided even so much as looking in her direction for the entire two hour class. _

_When the chimes on the antique clock in the quad began to toll, Commander Spock dismissed them. Among the not-so-muffled groans of relief and freedom that came from the other students, Uhura took her time gathering her things. As a result, she was the last person, save for their instructor, still in the classroom five minutes later._

_"Commander Spock?" Praying that her Vulcan verb conjugation was correct, she asked, as she took the first step leading up to the podium, "Are you teaching any other classes this semester?" _

_"I am." _

_Uhura waited for him to go on. When it became clear that he wasn't going to elaborate, she asked, "Which ones?" _

_He looked up, almost impatiently. "Cadet, you might have been Velar's top student, but I do not have so-called favorites in my classes. I expect each and every student to earn high marks and those who do not are the ones to whom I give my attention, for they clearly require more instruction than those students who easily assimilate the material." _

_Picking up his slim metal briefcase, Spock began to descend the wide steps. As he passed by her, he paused just long enough to add, "When translating verbs into the present action tense, do not forget to put in the proper pause between vowels. You asked me if I was learning any classes this semester." _

_Uhura stood there, frozen in place, yet somehow burning up with humiliation, a long time after she heard the door swish to a close behind him. When she finally gathered what was left of her dignity, she turned around and nearly crashed into a solid body. _

_Blinking, Uhura looked up. It was Commander Spock, but not the same man who'd left only moments earlier. His hair was a touch longer, his eyes less angry, and he was wearing dark pants and a dark shirt, Federation civilian clothing rather than his Starfleet Academy uniform. _

_"Nyota," he addressed her, speaking her name softly, like a prayer. "You should know that the entire way back to my office, I regretted speaking so harshly to you."_

_"What? What are you talking about?" She shook her head. "How did you change clothes so fast?" _

_Spock took a step towards her, forcing her to take a step backwards to keep any distance between them. "My anger was with myself, not with you."_

_"I don't understand...why are you telling me this?" _

_"I had never found myself so distracted before, especially not in a classroom situation." If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn a small smirk played on his lips. "It was the way you tugged down your skirt when you took your seat. For a woman who had just spoken so highly of herself, your modesty was...unexpected. Even fascinating." _

_Uhura frowned. "Commander..."_

_"It started right here, Nyota. My feelings for you. Feelings I never asked for, never wanted. Feelings, however, that I ultimately came to cherish." He stopped for a second. "Until I met you, I was never quite certain that I had chosen the right path by not purging all emotion in the koli'nahr. But after this class..." Spock reached for her hand. "I was very glad to be able to feel." _

_Looking down as he gently, almost lovingly caressed her knuckles with his thumb, Uhura whispered, "Who are you?"_

_"A wiser man than the one who just left this room," he replied. "A better man for loving you." _

_"Loving?" Uhura pulled her hand back. "We just met!" _

_"Look past this memory, Nyota. It is only that...a moment in time, captured in your mind. It will never come again. Right now, I need you to remember the present and think of the future."_

_"You're scaring me, Commander." _

_Spock inclined his head. "The present is frightening. I, too, am scared. Scared of losing you just as I found my way back to you. Scared of our son growing up without his mother." _

_"Our son?" Her eyes darted back and forth, as if processing this. "Our son...Gray...Grayson." _

_"Yes." He reached for her hand again. "You need to be strong for him. Your body wants to let go, but your mind must hold on." Spock gently pulled her closer until he could put his arms around her slender body. "Let me help you come back."_

_In his arms, everything made sense. Looking up at him, Uhura shook her head. "You're married." _

_"That will not be true for much longer," he assured her._

_She was not so easily dissuaded. "You left me," she accused him._

_"Yes." Spock lowered his lips to hers. "And I never will again." His kisses moved from her mouth to her cheek as she wrapped her own arms around him, holding on to him as tightly as possible. "You are my life, Nyota. You and our son...my family." _

_Her cheeks shone with tears. "I love you, too." She kissed him again, a salty meeting of mouths that left her breathless. As always. _

* * *

Uhura's eyes flew open. Spock's fingers still pressed into her cheek; his own eyes were tightly closed in concentration. Only a second after she woke, he sagged backwards and might have fallen to the ground it Kirk hadn't been standing behind him.

The captain broke Spock's fall and held on to his shoulders until he'd regained his bearings. "It worked," Kirk quietly told him. "She's back."

McCoy confirmed this with a relieved, "The bleeding's under control and her blood pressure's stabilizing."

"Spock." When Uhura called for him, Spock broke away from Kirk and reached for her hand. "Are you back?" she asked, her voice still weak, but on its way to recovery. "For real?"

"I have no plans to return to the colony now or in the future," he promised her.

"Because of the baby?" Kirk asked darkly, unable to keep his mouth shut.

Spock didn't acknowledge him, but did correct him. "Because...this is where I belong."

"Okay." Uhura's lips curved up. "You can stay, then."

"For now," Kirk added, finally earning a reaction from Spock in the form of an icy look.

"All right, all right." McCoy yanked his mask down. "I hate to be a buzz kill..."

"No, you don't, Bones."

Glaring at Kirk, the doctor went on, "Uhura needs to get some rest. I need to give our littlest crew member a full examination. And you two probably have a few punches to throw at each other. So, everyone who hasn't just been born or given birth or doesn't possess a medical degree, please get the hell out of Sickbay."

Kirk was the first to leave the room. Spock lingered at Uhura's side for a moment. "I will be back soon."

She reached up to touch the center of his chest. "I believe you."

It took a lot for Spock to walk out of Sickbay. And when he emerged into the white glare of the corridor, Jim Kirk was waiting for him.

* * *

To Be Continued


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Hitting 1000 reviews is mind-boggling, to say the least. And I cannot thank you enough for making that happen. Really, just...thank you. Lisa, thanks, as always, for the feedback;) Please enjoy!

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"So, how'd you find out?"

With his hands behind his back, Spock merely lifted an eyebrow at the Enterprise's captain. "Does it matter?"

Kirk pushed away from the wall against which he'd been leaning. "Hell yeah, it matters! I made a promise to her."

"A promise to what? To keep the existence of my own child from me?"

"That was what she wanted." Kirk took a step forward. "Are you blaming her? Because you're the one who left, pal."

Spock inclined his chin. "Yes, I did. I do not blame Nyota, but had I been in possession of all the facts..."

"Possession of the facts?" Kirk shook his head in amazement. "Are you even listening to yourself? Do you know how you sound?" He took another step towards Spock. "Is it those facts that made you come back, Spock? C'mon...she's not here. You can tell me." He searched Spock's eyes for any sign of a response. "Did you only come back because you have a genetic obligation to her now?"

"Are you attempting to engage me in a physical altercation?"

"You have no idea how much I want to," Kirk told him. "And maybe when this damn sling comes off, we'll revisit all of this in a much less civilized manner."

An Engineering ensign walked by just then, forcing a pause in the conversation. When she was out of earshot, Spock said, "I have no wish to fight you ever again, Jim."

"And I have no wish to watch you break her heart again the next time you decide you're too Vulcan to be with her." He lifted his chin a notch. "Are you still married?"

Although it pained him to answer such a personal question, Spock replied, "My marriage contract will soon be dissolved."

"So, you're still married?" Spock said nothing. "What the hell makes you think you can come back here and make all kinds of promises when you're still legally tied to someone else?" Kirk exploded.

"I believe this is a matter that should only be discussed between Nyota and myself."

"Oh shit." Kirk ran his hand down his face. "Don't tell me that you already did it. Your duty, repopulation, putting a bun in the oven...whatever you want to call it...did you manage to do it? And that's why you can come back now?"

Behind his back, Spock curled and uncurled his fists several times. "Be very careful."

"Well, that was the plan, wasn't it?"

"Plans change," he replied, his voice growing dangerous.

Kirk ignored his tone. "But see...you're not denying it. So...what? Are you going to be called back to the colony in a few months to meet your other..."

Spock's hand shot out, grabbing Kirk's good arm in a death grip. "If I twist my hand as few as ten degrees to the left, you will need another sling," he told the captain. "And as I am still on leave from Starfleet, my actions would not even qualify as insubordination."

"Try it," Kirk dared him. "I'd love it if you did."

Looking Kirk straight in the eye, he went on, "I cannot tell if your defense of Nyota is that of a commanding officer, a friend, or a man, but I will tell you this. While I do not wish to fight you, from now on, she is the one thing for which I will fight anyone, anywhere, at any time."

"Is that a threat?"

"Consider it a promise."

After a few moments, a smile spread on Kirk's face. "Good."

Spock frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Can you let up now?" When Spock released him, Kirk shook out his arm. "Look, you didn't fight for her before you left. You let yourself get all wrapped up in duty and obligation, and because of that, you lost a hell of lot of time that you can't ever get back. You didn't see her get bigger every day. You weren't there when she felt it kick for the first time. You almost missed the whole damn thing...and by the way, you are going to tell me how you found out, eventually, if I have to order it out of you." He paused. "But if you get it now...if you've realized that she's worth fighting for, that being with her is pretty much worth anything...then we're good."

"Good?" Spock repeated doubtfully.

"Water under the bridge. No harm, no foul." Kirk clarified.

Staring at him, Spock said, "You are...confusing."

"You're no walk in the park yourself." Clearing his throat, Kirk glanced back at the doors to Sickbay. "She's tough, Spock, but I don't know if she could stand you leaving again. So if you do have...you know...unfinished business back on the colony..."

"I do not." Spock looked away for a moment. "I suffered without her, Jim."

"I knew you would," Kirk said with a touch of triumph.

Spock merely gave him a cool look. "May I go to my quarters, or am I to sleep in the proverbial dog house for the forseeable future?"

"Now that's entirely up to her. But as for your quarters, you got here just in time. Another couple of days and we were turning it into a storage room for Scotty's whiskey."

"Humorous," Spock said, although his flat tone indicated that he found it anything but.

"Not a joke. You haven't seen the man's stash." Kirk started to walk off in the direction of the bridge. He turned back a second later. "Oh, and Spock? Welcome back."

With a raised eyebrow, Spock started to move off towards the turbolift. But after a few steps, he stopped, turned around and silently, stealthily slipped back into Sickbay.

* * *

The baby was a god-damn miracle.

McCoy didn't pretend to be a neonatal expert, but he knew enough about fetal development to know that the child wrapped in a blanket and lying on table in front of him should have been in a lot worse shape that he was.

Sure, he was small, even by infant standards, but his heart and lungs were suprisingly strong and he showed no signs of developing any problems with them in the future.

He was about to take a sample of the baby's blood for analysis when he felt a distinct presence in the room.

"What part of 'get the hell out of Sickbay' escaped you?" McCoy asked without even turning around.

Spock began walking towards them. "He is my child, Doctor. It is only logical that I should be here."

"You know, years ago back on Earth, men just passed out cigars when it was all over," McCoy muttered. "Those were the days..."

Having reached the table, Spock looked down at the infant. "Is he healthy?"

McCoy scowled. "All of his systems are functioning, if that's what you're asking."

"My concern for his well-being annoys you, Doctor?"

"Is that what that was? Concern?" The doctor snorted. "Could've fooled me."

Spock frowned. "Do you believe because I am not openly weeping or passing out cigars, as you say is the tradition, that my feelings for my son are somehow lacking?" Before McCoy could answer, Spock went on, "Vulcans feel as deeply for their offspring as Humans do, Doctor, and I am both." He reached out for the baby's hand. Grayson's fingers curled around his; it took Spock a moment to continue. "So I will ask you again. Is my son healthy?"

McCoy relented with a nod. "Yeah. Surprisingly so. You want to tell me how that's possible? By our standards, he arrived way too early to be doing this well."

"A hybrid is often stronger than the individual parts from which it was created, is it not?"

"Hybrid? Great nickname for the kid."

The baby still had a firm hold on Spock's finger. "He may be called worse one day. I certainly was." With his other hand, Spock touched the gentle point of his son's ear. "It will be my responsibility as his father to teach him to rise above it."

McCoy looked down at the baby. "You'd be better off teaching him that Vulcan neck thing."

"You may be right," Spock agreed, eliciting a very small, very reluctant smirk from the doctor.

Just then, Grayson began to fuss, flailing his little limbs as much as he could. When Spock frowned, McCoy told him, "He needs to be fed." He paused as if making up his mind. "She's in there," he said, gesturing to a door to the right. "Take him to her." He pointed an accusing finger at Spock. "But do not wear her out with a lot of talking or apologizing, you got it? She feeds the kid and then she goes back to sleep. Deal?"

With awkward, but extremely gentle hands, Spock lifted the baby from the table. "You have my word," he said, settling the child against his shoulder.

Shaking his head, McCoy watched him put a hand to Grayson's tiny back, as if to calm him. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more Human than you do right now."

"I choose to take that as a compliment, Doctor." With that, Spock headed for the room where Uhura was resting.

When he was gone, McCoy folded his arms with a reluctant sigh. "As you should."

* * *

For the first few seconds after her eyes opened, Uhura was entirely convinced she was still asleep and dreaming. Spock couldn't be standing in front of her, certainly not cradling their whimpering baby. That was part of another life that she could have had if Nero had never destroyed Vulcan, or if she had possessed the courage to tell Spock about their child before he was married.

And yet, despite several attempts wake herself, he was still there, and it began to dawn on her that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't a dream.

"How are you here?"

Her whispered question made Spock look up from the baby in his arms. "Friends," he replied. "Both old and new."

Uhura bit her lip. "Where is your wife?"

"T'Lan is still on Degan V," Spock replied. "Although our marriage contract has not yet been dissolved, we have parted ways by mutual agreement."

"Mutual agreement," she repeated. "What happened between you?"

Grayson's cranky fussing was quickly turning into a tiny temper tantrum, preventing Spock from answering her question.

Uhura held out her hands. "I want to hold him." Their fingers touched as Spock passed Grayson to her. "Oh my god..." She blinked back hot tears. He was so light and fragile; she felt like she was holding the most precious thing in existence. "He has your ears. Sort of."

"Doctor McCoy believes he should be fed." Spock hesitated. "Should I leave the room?"

"Not on your life!" Her vehement reply must have surprised him. She added a softer, "I want you to be here for all of it from now on."

As she guided the baby to her breast, Spock sank onto a nearby stool and watched her feed their child for the first time. When Grayson was done, and his eyes began to droop, she glanced up at his father with wet eyes.

"I can't even explain it," she told him. "How...right this feels. My whole life, I thought I only wanted a career in Starfleet. I wanted to serve on a starship, explore new planets, maybe even be the first person to translate an undiscovered alien language." She paused. "I still want all of that, but now...it's like all of that wouldn't have been enough. Because I wouldn't have had anyone to share it with."

"Nyota." Spock leaned forward. "If you had told me you were pregnant, I would have stayed."

She glanced away. "I knew that. But your people are so important to you. How could I have asked you to choose between me and them?"

"There would not have been a choice," he insisted. With Grayson fast asleep, Uhura tugged at her Sickbay-issued cloth gown to cover herself. "My place was here, not there. My bond is with you, not..." Spock stopped.

"Bond? Are we bonded, Spock?"

"In ways I cannot begin to describe. It is why my marriage never could have succeeded. And I regret...I deeply regret that it took as long as it did for me to allow that realization to penetrate my resolve to make my marriage work."

Uhura busied herself with adjusting the folds of the blanket in which her baby was snuggled. "It didn't work?" The question didn't come out as nonchalantly as she would have liked. "Did you...um...try to make it work?"

"I will not lie to you, Nyota. I engaged in sexual intercourse with another woman in an ultimately futile attempt at procreation."

Although she already knew this, hearing it out loud still hurt, as though a small knife had been plunged into her heart. After a long minute, Uhura said, "Tell me it was nothing like what we had together."

"You should already know that," Spock said. When she tilted her head to one side expectantly, he inclined his chin. "There is no comparison between the two, Nyota. You are heart and soul and mind and body. She was merely...body."

"A good body?" Uhura couldn't help but ask. When he frowned, she shook her head sheepishly. "Sorry. Girl thing."

Spock was quiet for a second. "I would like your forgiveness, but I do not expect it." He paused. "I know I hurt you."

"Yeah, you did," she whispered. "But I think we've both been punished enough for our choices." Grayson flailed a fist in his sleep which she caught and gently tucked back under the blanket. "I still love you, Spock." When she looked up, he was staring at her with an expression she'd never seen before. "I never stopped."

"If I may ask one thing..." His voice throbbed. "Please never do."

Uhura smiled. "Is that a logical request?"

"The very opposite of," Spock said, reaching for her hand. "Perhaps that is why it feels right."

* * *

To Be Continued


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much everyone for all of your enthusiasm over this story. This chapter is (part of) a belated birthday present for my amazing beta, Lisa. Enjoy!

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Two weeks after Grayson's birth, Uhura stood in front of the door to Kirk's quarters, waiting for him to answer her chime. As she waited, she smoothed down the front of the loose, gauzy dress that she wore as she was still on medical leave and nowhere near back to her pre-pregnancy weight. It felt strange to be on the ship and not be in her uniform, like she was a civilian just along for the ride.

She didn't like it.

Kirk answered after a minute, still tugging on a shirt. In the past, she might have expected a scantily clad woman to be just behind him, pulling on enough clothes to make a hasty exit, but now she had a feeling that she'd interrupted nothing more than sleep. Commanding the Enterprise, being in charge of so many lives, having so much responsibility on his shoulders had changed Jim Kirk.

At least somewhat. She could name at least one planet on which he was no longer welcome due to a harem brawl in the royal court that had broken out after their visit. He had disavowed all knowledge, but somehow, being responsible for a massive blue-skinned cat-fight had only elevated his standing with the men of the ship.

"Liuetenant." He was bleary-eyed as he asked, "Why aren't you in bed, resting?"

"Because if I rest any more I'm going to go insane," she swore. "I want to go back on duty."

Kirk squinted at her in the harsh overhead light of the corridor. "What? Are you kidding? You just had a baby, Uhura."

"Maybe not full duty, okay? Just something, Jim. An hour or two here or there. Anything. Please."

Scratching the back of his tousled head, Kirk sighed. "Let's not talk about this in the hall, okay?" Stepping back, he gestured for her to follow him inside. Once the door closed, he asked, "What's Spock got to say about this?"

Her eyes narrowed. "This is my decision and he'll support it."

"If he knows what's good for him?" The captain smirked. "Do I sense something else going on here? Trouble in paradise?"

"Don't dramatize," Uhura snapped. "It's merely a...difference of opinion that we're having."

"Hmm." Sitting on the edge of his unmade bed, Kirk asked, "Why don't you tell me your side of it, then?"

Uhura folded her arms like a shield. "I want to raise Grayson on the Enterprise."

Kirk blinked. "I see. And Spock..."

"Wants us to return to Earth."

"Probably the logical choice," Kirk said. Before she could explode, he held up his hands. "Hey! I'm not agreeing with him...not by a long shot! You think I want to lose my first officer and the best communications operator in the fleet at the same time?"

"That's exactly what I told him, but he thinks it's too dangerous here."

"Well, it is." Once again, he had to quickly continue in order to spare himself her wrath. "Just hear me out, okay? You know better than anyone that this ship is a battleship. That's why we all wanted this assignment: to be on the front lines where the action is. We know the risks, we accepted the consequences..." Kirk hesitated. "Grayson didn't make that choice. But if something did happen to us...Klingon attack, alien virus, another quantum filament...he'd still suffer for it."

As much as she wanted to argue this, Uhura couldn't deny that, as was his annoying way, Kirk was right. "I don't know what to do, Jim," she said after a minute. "Is there even a way to win this one?"

"I really want to say there is, but..." Trailing off, Kirk lifted his shoulders.

Uhura shook her head. "I won't put my baby's life in danger." Her eyes smarted with hot tears. "But I also can't imagine leaving the Enterprise." Her attempt at a chuckle fell flat. "Can't you just order us to go or to stay...just so we don't have to decide?"

"Yeah, there's no way I'm getting in the middle of this."

"That'd be a first," she muttered. Off his offended look, she scowled, "I know you had something to do with him coming back. I just haven't figured out how yet. He swears you didn't tell him."

"If you do figure it out, I wanna know," Kirk said with frown of his own. "Since the universe hasn't succumbed to a massive paradox yet."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing. Look." Standing up, Kirk grasped her shoulders gently. "You're still recovering from a tough birth. You're adjusting to a new baby. You and Spock are still working through a lot of stuff, even though his whole marriage contract thing is officially over. So maybe right now isn't the best time to be making such a big decision."

Uhura sniffed. "If I'm too emotional and he's not emotional enough...what are we going to do?"

With a sigh, Kirk pulled her into a hug. "Beats the hell out of me." It took her a second to relax, but finally she laid her cheek on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, though," he told her. "One way or another."

"Jim," she said after a long minute. "I haven't thanked you yet."

"For what?"

Uhura pushed him away. "You would make me spell it out, wouldn't you?"

He laughed. "You're welcome." More seriously, he added, "Really. Anytime you need me...I'm there."

She laid her hand against his cheek. "Goodnight." At the door, she added a very sassy, "Captain."

After she was gone, he let out a pent-up breath, rubbed his hand against the place where she'd rested her palm, and headed back to bed.

* * *

Almost from the moment Uhura had left their quarters claiming she needed a walk around the ship to clear her mind, Grayson had been crying.

And Spock had no idea why.

He had just been fed. His diaper was dry. If he'd been tired, he would have just fallen asleep. The room temperature was neither too hot, nor too cold for the soft cotton jumper in which Uhura had him dressed. There did not appear to be a single, logical reason for his screams.

Perhaps he required some sort of calming device, such as music. Picking Grayson up from his crib, Spock said, "Computer, play Tovat's Vulcan lute recording on low volume."

The melody of harp notes didn't have the right effect, however. Grayson's cries only magnified. His tiny face was almost purple with the effort it took to keep screaming.

"Computer, stop." Spock thought for a second, hard to do over the sound of his son's tirade. "Play Brahm's Lullaby on the cello, low volume."

"That's his favorite." He hadn't even heard the door open as Uhura returned, but she stood in the doorway, watching them. "He's cranky because he got his first immunization hypos earlier."

Spock frowned. "I was not aware he had an appointment today."

"I thought his heart rate was too high, so I took him down to Sickbay. While we were there, Dr. McCoy decided he'd gained enough weight to have the hypos." She came all the way into the room, letting the doors close behind her. "I should have pulled you off the bridge. I'm sorry."

"Is there a problem with his heart?"

She shook her head. "Not for someone who's a quarter Vulcan. I forget how fast yours beats." Approaching them, she reached for Grayson. "I know you're sore, sweetheart," she soothed the baby. "It'll pass soon, Mommy promises."

In between sobs, Grayson hiccuped.

"Nyota." His hands now empty, Spock folded them behind his back. "I feel that the...discussion we had this morning-"

"Fight, Spock." Gently jostling their son, she reminded him, "It was a fight. I don't like admitting it any more than you do, but denying it just isn't logical."

"We have never fought before."

"So you might say we're overdue." When his brow furred in confusion, Uhura clarified, "We're not always going to agree on everything and that's okay. It would be boring if we did."

"But this is a very important issue over which we are in disagreement," Spock pointed out. Uhura nodded ever so slightly. "I understand your wish to stay aboard the Enterprise. I share that desire. With that being said, however, our lives have permanently changed and we no longer have the luxury of considering only our own desires, Nyota."

"I know." She looked down at Grayson. His cries were tapering off as his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion. "He comes first from now on."

"Perhaps if this was a research vessel or we were assigned to a station or an outpost, our situation would be different, but we are not. We serve aboard the flagship of the Federation. As it stands, raising our son safely on Earth is the most viable option."

Uhura worked her lower lip between her teeth as she continued to rock Grayson to sleep. "I want you to know, I understand what you're saying, and on some level, I agree with it. But I also want you to consider this...and please forgive me for having to say it all." She paused. "How many Vulcan children were lost while they were supposedly safe on their own planet?"

Spock stared at her for a long minute. "I believe you have made your point."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "That wasn't fair."

"It was a valid observation that pertains to our discussion."

"That doesn't make it okay." As Grayson was finally, blissfully asleep, Uhura laid him down his crib and moved Chekov's stuffed bear closer to his little body. Straightening up, she turned to Spock. "I just want you to remember that anything can happen to anyone at any time. There is no such thing as absolute safety."

Spock inclined his chin. "Yes, but there are choices that are riskier than others and it is only logical to make decisions based upon which choice carries the least risk."

"And you think the least risky choice is Earth?"

"I believe it is, yes."

With her hands on her hips, Uhura looked away from him. "What would we do there? Everything we've both been working towards is here, on the Enterprise."

"There is the Academy or Starfleet Command. I am not suggesting that we give up our careers, Nyota, merely that we adjust our lives to accomodate our son's needs."

When she felt his hands on her shoulders, Nyota closed her eyes. "All right." Unable to resist his touch, she let him pull her into his arms and even went so far as to turn her face into his neck. "Maybe we can try it for a year. Two at the most. See what happens. But if it doesn't work out..."

"The Enterprise will be waiting," he promised. Spock tilted her head back to look in her eyes. "Before we leave the ship, there is one thing I would like for us to do."

She reached up to touch the triangle of dark hair at his temple. "What's that?"

* * *

Kirk felt like he'd been punched in the face. "You want me to do what?"

Standing in front of his friend, Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Do you not have the authority to do this by right of your position as captain of this vessel?"

"Of course. But I..." Kirk shook his head back and forth. "I just never thought I'd, you know, be called on to use it." He hesitated. "Not for you, anyway. I mean...don't you want one of your Elders to do it?"

"Jim." Spock's voice was soft, almost reverent. "I have already done this the Vulcan way. I would rather not have the same experience with Nyota."

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, Kirk let it out in a great woosh a second later. "Okay," he finally said.

"You will, then?"

"Yeah. Yes." Folding his arms over his chest, Kirk nodded with just a touch of reluctance. "I'll marry the two of you."

* * *

To Be Continued


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me, but to Gene Roddenberry, Paramount Pictures, etc.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much everyone. I hope you know by now how much your response to this story means to me:) Lisa, you're still awesome, hon.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

The last time Kirk had worn his dress uniform had been at Spock's first wedding on Degan V. Now he was donning the high-collared, itchy-as-all-hell gold jacket a second time...for Spock's second wedding.

He wasn't sure if that was ironic, pathetic or just plain weird. Spock, the supposedly emotionless Vulcan with a stick up his ass the size of a flagpole, had gotten more action in a year than Kirk had since leaving the Academy.

And no, he didn't count the harem on Kestral Major. The fight amongst the Premiere's wives had broken out when he was all the way on the other side of the palace, working on getting the bikini top off one of the serving girls. Back on the Enterprise, he'd let the incident be told and retold, until he was solely responsible for starting the brawl. Why deprive his crewmates of a good story?

The truth was it took a special sort of woman to attract Kirk's eye anymore...and he no longer defined "special" by brassiere size.

The door chime interrupted his attempt to fasten the last button on his collar. "Come," he said with no small amount of frustration.

McCoy stepped into the room a second later, clad in the same stiff dress jacket, only in blue. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah." Finally, the button snapped into place. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Well, that's a hell of an answer." When Kirk started for the door, McCoy stopped him. "If you've got a bee in your bonnet, better shake it out now."

Kirk made a scoffing face. "There's no bee and there's damn sure no bonnet. No offense, Bones, but I don't need to be analyzed."

McCoy frowned. "Do you take me for some kind of blind idiot? You think I don't know what's going on in your head after almost five years of living and working with you?"

"Can you just say what's on your mind? If I'm late to this thing..."

"It's not like they can start without you." The doctor took a step forward. "Jim. Do you have feelings for-"

Kirk cut him off. "Stop. Really, Bones, just...don't."

"Ah, hell. You do." McCoy ran hand through his hair. "Shit."

"What do you want me to say?" Kirk asked after a minute.

"I don't know," McCoy admitted.

"Okay, then." He pointed at the door. "Can we go now?"

"Jim." At the door, Kirk stopped, but didn't turn around to look at his friend. "Why didn't you ever tell her?"

"Maybe I thought I did." He shrugged. "Just not in the right way. Obviously." Kirk glanced back over his shoulder. "She's happy. He's...whatever happy is for him. They're going to be happy together, raising their kid. And I get to command the Federation's flagship." He grinned, but it came out lop-sided. "Everybody wins."

"Go pull someone else's leg, kid; I'm as tall as I want to be."

"Do you really want me to go in there and start making confessions, Bones?"

"Of course not. I just-" The doctor stopped with a sigh. "Never mind."

Kirk finally turned back the whole way. "I know I've pulled my fair share of selfish stunts, but this would just be...unforgivable. Agreed?"

"Agreed." McCoy hesitated. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he replied, almost too casually. "Just do me a favor, Bones. The next time a strong, beautiful, insanely intelligent woman comes into my life...don't let me be a jackass around her."

McCoy scowled as he followed Kirk out the door. "I'm a doctor, Jim, not a damn miracle worker."

* * *

The chapel was packed with most of the Enterprise's crew, save for the skeleton team it took to keep the ship running. This was a marriage that everyone wanted to witness.

Uhura's simple sleeveless white satin sheath dress trailed along the carpeted aisle that bisected the crowd and led up to a raised, flower-decorated platform. It was on this platform that Spock was waiting, standing just to the captain's right side, tall and lean in his blue dress uniform jacket.

She looked down at the Capellan flowers in her hands; a matching blossom was tucked into her upswept hair. As she came closer to the platform, Uhura raised her eyes to look at the people watching her.

Scotty gave her a hearty wink as she passed. Sulu inclined his head. Chekov was holding Grayson against his shoulder, patting the little boy's back to keep him from fussing during the ceremony. When she walked by, the young ensign's grin was broad and geuninely happy.

McCoy had his arms folded, a strange look on his face, but as she got closer, his expression relaxed to the point where she could have sworn he almost smiled at her.

Uhura didn't let herself focus on Spock until she reached the platform, although she could feel his unblinking stare boring into her. When she finally did look at him, she could see a million different things in his eyes.

Awe. Desire. Trust. Respect. Love.

Maybe no one else could see his emotions, but to Uhura, they were written all over his face.

Spock held out his hand and after handing off her bouquet to Christine Chapel, she took it, letting him help her up onto the platform. They were still holding hands when Kirk stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"The duties of a captain might have drastically changed since we rowed wooden ships across great oceans, but one privilege has always and will always come with this position: the authority to join two people in matrimony," Kirk began. "Today we're gathered to witness the union of our colleagues and friends, Commander Spock and Lieutenant Nyota Uhura..." He paused, looking back and forth between them as they stared into each other's eyes. "...who have decided to speak their own vows." He stepped back. "Lieutenant Uhura?"

She took a breath. "I searched for any poetry from Vulcan that might express how I feel about you, but...who'd have guessed...there isn't a lot of Vulcan love poetry."

Amusement rippled through the crowd.

"But I did find something in the teachings of Sovak," Uhura continued. "He said, 'Logic can never replace emotion; it is merely a tool utilized to make emotion a choice rather than an uncontrollable impulse.' While this might sound very unromantic to the Human ear, I take Sovak to mean that when a Vulcan does fall in love, they do so by conscious choice. And that means...you decided to love me, despite all the reasons you probably shouldn't have." She smiled softly. "Which is good, because my very Human impulse was to love you, too." Her fingers laced through his. "For the rest of my life."

A few moments of reverent silence passed before Kirk cleared his throat. "Spock?"

"My own search for love poetry from Earth was, not surprisingly, far more successful," Spock said. "One in particular spoke to me. 'I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you'." Spock covered their entwined fingers with his other hand. "When I am with you, Nyota, I am not half of anything. I am whole."

Somewhere in the crowd, there was a very loud sniff, followed by a muffled, "I'm fine, laddie. Pay me no mind."

Kirk's hands were clapsed together so tightly that his knuckles were almost white. "If there are no objections to this union..." He waited a few seconds before continuing, "...then by the power invested in me as captain of this vessel, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He smiled weakly. "Spock, kiss your bride."

Their lips met a moment later to the scattered applause of their crewmates.

* * *

Much later, after the toasts and music and even dancing that followed the ceremony...the latter having been half-drunkenly instigated by Scotty...the newly married couple found themselves alone in their quarters.

Grayson was spending the night in Sickbay, being watched over by several nurses who fully intended to dote upon him for as long as he was on board.

Only seconds after the door closed, sealing them away from the rest of the ship, Uhura reached behind her head and removed the pins holding her hair into place. It cascaded around her shoulders like a dark waterfall.

She offered her husband a coy smile. "Guess what I got medical clearance to do tonight?" Walking to him, Uhura reached for the collar of his formal jacket.

As she worked on the buttons, Spock cupped her face before letting his hands drift down to her bare shoulders. "I will not hurt you," he said, neither stating, nor asking.

"You won't." When the last button was free, she pushed the jacket off his shoulders and let him shrug it off his arms. "I've missed making love with you," she whispered.

His eyes smoldered. Hooking two fingers around the flimsy straps of her wedding gown, he yanked, ripping the fabric and baring her breasts. With one hand splayed on her lower back, Spock yanked her up against him. Skin met skin, mouth melded to mouth, fingers grasped at their remaining clothes.

They landed on the bed, limbs wrapped around limbs. It lasted forever, yet it was over far too soon, leaving them panting for breath, her sweat-kissed body cradled against his cooler frame.

After a long time, Uhura pushed herself up on her arm and looked down at him. "You're going to miss this ship, aren't you?"

He reached up a lazy hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "That is possible."

"So, we'll be back in a year, right?"

"The Enterprise will be no less dangerous in a year than it is right now, Nyota."

Dropping down, she rested her chin on the arm she had draped across his chest. "Who's to say that in a hundred years, children won't be commonplace on starships? I can't imagine a more exciting childhood than growing up exploring the galaxy." Uhura smiled at him. "Can you?"

"Perhaps you are right," he agreed. "In a year, we shall see."

"Okay." Her eyes closed even as he urged her onto her side and wrapped his arms around her, knowing that she liked to sleep surrounded by him. "A year..." she murmured as she drifted off.

Spock laid his cheek on the pillow of her jasmine-scented hair. He was not tired, but he would hold her through the night. "A year. Or two. No less...but no more."

* * *

To Be Continued


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: To follow.

* * *

The Opposite of Logic

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

**Twenty-four months later**

_"Enterprise, this is the USS Charleston. We have three to beam over on your mark."_

_"Charleston, the Enterprise is standing by to receive three in Transporter Room 1." _

Kirk was glad to see Scotty at the transporter controls when he entered the room a few minutes later. He didn't exactly fear a mishap, but it was good to know that the three people beaming over from the transport ship were in the best hands in the fleet.

"Captain," Scotty greeted him with a grin. "Ready when you are, sir."

After a second, Kirk nodded. "Beam them over, Scotty."

Although they were expecting three, only two of the pads lit up. Kirk frowned. But as the shapes of his friends began to form in the midst of whirling light and energy, he realized why.

Spock materialized in his customary uniform, carrying a bulging bag and looking almost exactly the same as he had when they'd transported off the Enterprise two years earlier. Perhaps, though, there was something different about him, and only someone who knew him well would have been able to spot it: a certain look about his face that didn't exactly speak of relaxation, but was no longer severe or unapproachable.

Uhura appeared beside him, her hair long hair braided down her back, carrying a toddler on her hip. Three people, two pads. From the moment they could move again, the little boy began squirming in her arms, like he wanted to get down.

"Sorry. I know you were expecting three, but do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a toddler on his own transporter pad?" Uhura asked Kirk, her eyes sparkling.

Kirk shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. "Wow. He's...huge."

"And heavy," she complained. "But if I put him down, he'll be out that door in five seconds."

"Three seconds," her husband corrected. Spock addressed his wriggling son. "Grayson," he said to the boy as though he was much older than his two years. "You must hold my hand, do you understand?"

Grayson blinked dark eyes at his father, but stopped wriggling. When Uhura set him down on his sturdy little legs, he reached a hand up and grabbed onto Spock's index finger.

With their son occupied for the moment, Uhura stepped down from the transporter pad and approached Kirk. "Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, reporting for duty, Captain."

"About damn time." After a moment of looking at her, Kirk turned his attention to Spock, who was patiently taking the short steps down with his son one at a time. "What about you? Are you reporting for duty or just along for the ride?"

"That depends upon whether or not you still require a first officer," Spock replied evenly. When he and Grayson reached the bottom, he looked up. "I was led to believe that you do."

"Yeah. I really do." Kirk clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome back." His attention was drawn down to the little boy who now clung to the dark leg of his father's pants. "Is he talking yet?"

"He has a vocabulary of seventy-six words in Federation Standard and twenty-two in Vulcan." If Kirk hadn't known better, he'd have sworn there was a touch of pride in Spock's voice.

"But he understands more than he speaks. He's a parrot," Uhura said. "He repeats everything." She pointed at Scotty, who'd been watching them with a wide grin. "So be careful what you say around him."

Squatting down, Kirk sought out Grayson's eyes, hard to do when he was hiding behind Spock's thigh. "Hi, Grayson. Can you say 'Jim'?"

It was muffled, but still unmistakable. "Gim."

"All right." Kirk nodded, satisfied. "Gim it is."

* * *

By the time they arrived in Sickbay, Grayson and Kirk were old friends. The little boy was happily seated on Kirk's shoulders, his chubby fingers tangled in the captain's dark blonde hair.

Uhura and Spock had been following them through the ship, holding hands as they watched their son interact with Kirk. There was a kindred spirit between the man and the boy, a shared sense that life was an adventure to be gleefully undertaken at any age.

Still, for as much fun as he was having riding on the captain's shoulders, every now and then Grayson would realize that his parents were out of sight and he'd look around, his lower lip protruding, until he spotted his father behind him. With that reassurance, his anxiety would instantly fade and his smile would reappear.

"You do realize that he will expect such rides from now on," Spock told Kirk.

Kirk shrugged; the movement jostled Grayson and sent him into a fit of giggles. "Well, that's what he's got his Uncle Gim for. Although, you've got the better ears to hold onto, you know."

Uhura smothered a giggle when she caught her husband's look. "What? It's a valid point."

"Pun intended," Kirk punctuated.

McCoy was treating a deep cut on an engineer's arm when they entered the medical bay; Christine Chapel was at his side, assisting. They looked up at the new arrivals, but only the nurse smiled.

"So, I see you found your way back," McCoy addressed Spock and Uhura. "Welcome and all that. Give him a hypo of antibiotic," he ordered Nurse Chapel.

"Bones, senior officers on the bridge in five minutes," Kirk announced.

Uhura and Spock exchanged a look. "Does that include me?" Uhura asked. When Kirk nodded, she cleared her throat. "Captain, I hate to cause a problem already, but Grayson..."

"Can stay right here with me," Christine finished. "Can't you, angel?" she asked the little boy, holding out her arms to him.

Much to his parents' surprise, Grayson let her take him from Kirk's shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Uhura reached out to touch the tiny shoe on her son's foot. "He can be...a handful."

"I'm absolutely sure," the nurse said, perching Grayson her shapely hip. She met Kirk's eye for a half second longer than necessary. "Good practice for the future."

Kirk cleared his throat a bit too loudly. "Come on. Everyone's waiting on us."

Spock ignored him momentarily and handed the nurse the bag he had carried over from the Charleston. "There are sufficient supplies to care for his needs for the remainder of the afternoon. He will require a nap in approximately two hours. If he should wake before we have returned..."

"She's a nurse, Spock," McCoy scowled. "I think she can handle anything he can throw at her."

Uhura kissed Grayson's cheek. "Mommy and Daddy are going to work now, but we'll be back after your nap," she told him. "Nurse Chapel is going to be with you, okay?"

"Ma-ma." Grayson reached for her dangling earring, but she skillfully avoided his little hand.

"Goodbye, Grayson," Spock said at the door. Before the little boy's wobbling lower lip could turn into tears, they slipped out of Sickbay.

"Will he be okay?" Kirk asked.

"He must learn that separation from us is not permanent," Spock replied. "That is why we explain our departure to him and attempt to give him a time frame in which to expect our return."

McCoy snorted. "And that works?"

Spock hesitated. "It is an ongoing process, Doctor."

"I'll bet."

* * *

Save for a few new faces at various stations, the bridge hadn't changed in two years. It was a welcome sight.

Neither Uhura nor Spock believed their time on Earth had been a waste; they'd both had positive experiences at the Academy teaching Introductory Xenolinguistics and Advanced Subspace Communications respectively. In those two years, they'd heard their son say his first word-"no," spoken very loudly and then repeated often-and watched him take his first steps across a grassy patch of Golden Gate Park. They'd traveled to Africa to introduce Grayson to his mother's family and they'd even spent some time with Sarek at the Vulcan Embassy.

Yet for all of that, there was some tiny place in each of them that had been empty until they'd beamed back on board the Enterprise, a testimony to the fact that they'd made the right choice in coming back.

As they walked onto the bridge, the comm officer on duty addressed Kirk. "Sir, we've picked up a subspace transmission from the Vulcan colony on Degan V."

Kirk looked at Spock. "For you?"

Puzzled, Spock replied, "I am not expecting a message."

"On screen," Kirk told the officer.

"Actually, sir..." The woman hesitated. "The transmission is locked for privacy and requires an authorization code. A Vulcan code."

Uhura looked at her husband as he stepped forward. "Captain, may I use..."

"The conference room?" Kirk nodded. "Of course."

As Spock was still holding Uhura's hand, she went with him, back out the bridge entrance and down the hall to the left. The conference room was empty; Spock immediately sat at the head of the long table and accessed the computer terminal set within it.

"Computer, access subspace transmission from Degan V, authorization code Kal-pir-nine-two-two."

"Access granted," the computer said. A second later, the screen came to life and Sarek's aged face looked back at him.

"Spock," he addressed his son. "I regret not being able to share this news with you in person, but I understand you have left Earth and returned to your post on the Enterprise. It is likely that the next time we meet, I shall be a father again."

Spock whipped his head around to meet his wife's wide eyes. When his father began speaking again, he looked back just as quickly.

"I will not go into details, Spock, but I do feel it is my responsibility to tell you that the mother of this child is T'Lan. Our joining was not something either of us anticipated or planned, but it has happened and if it disturbs you, I am sorry, my son. Certainly you can understand..."

"Computer, freeze." Uhura watched as Spock ran a slow hand down his face. "My father...and T'Lan?" She put her hand on his shoulder in silent support. "Pon farr," he said a moment later.

Uhura frowned. "Pon farr?"

"That is how it must have happened. Father would never speak of it, not even to me...few Vulcans ever will. But it is the only logical explanation."

"There's a logical explanation that makes your father having a baby with your ex-wife not completely creepy?"

Despite the situation, the corners of Spock's lips twitched ever so slightly. "Computer, resume message."

"...the desire to help rebuild our race," Sarek continued. "I have been...debating the idea of this for many months, even going so far as to ensure that I am still capable of fathering a child." He paused. "Spock, you must believe that no woman, Vulcan or otherwise, could ever replace your mother. Perhaps that is why marrying T'Lan seems almost logical. I will never replace the man she lost, either."

Spock reached back and touched the hand his wife still had resting on his shoulder.

"If this is not a forgivable act, I will understand and will not expect a reply. Still, I remain, dare I say, hopeful. May this message find you and your family in good health, son. Until we meet again."

When the message ended, Spock let out a barely audible sigh. "I do not know what to feel."

"That's okay." Uhura perched on the edge of the table, facing him. "I wouldn't, either. I can't think of anyone who would."

"When I left you to marry T'Lan, my reasoning seemed so logical. But now I see how absurd the idea of..." He stopped, looking up at her with troubled eyes. "How did you ever forgive me, Nyota?"

Lifting her shoulder, she replied, "Simple. I love you." Uhura touched his cheek. "And since you love your father, you'll do the same for him."

A long moment passed in silence. "Is it all right if we set aside this topic for the moment?"

She smiled softly. "Sure. But we'll talk more later?" Spock inclined his head. "C'mon," Uhura said after leaning forward for a brief kiss. "I've been waiting to get at that comm station again forever."

They walked back onto the bridge a minute later, and with a nod of approval from Kirk, took their customary stations. As Uhura set her earpiece in place, she caught Spock's eye and gave him a small wink to which he merely nodded again.

But Spock's nod had always, and would always, do to her stomach what other men's sexiest smirks could never accomplish.

"Mr. Sulu," Kirk said to the helmsman. "The family's all here again." Glancing back at Spock, he grinned. "Warp Five to the Castorian system. Punch it."

* * *

The End

A/N: I really wish I had the words to express to each and every one of you how much all of your reviews have meant to me. Hearing that you've enjoyed the story has pushed me to keep going on days when I didn't feel like writing a single sentence. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

And, of course, no thanks would be complete without mentioning my amazing beta and friend, Lisa. I know, I know, hon. It's back to work on the novel now, I promise.

At least until the next fic idea comes along!

Thank you (again!),

Kristen Elizabeth


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